


Mysteries and Misimpressions

by Maria_Albert



Series: Paladins and Princes [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Alien Keith (Voltron), Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, Backstory, Bromance, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Flashbacks, Flashbacks and Information Concerning the Original Red and Blue Paladins, Hawaiian Hunk (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Keith and Lance Chaos, M/M, Misunderstandings, Near Death Experiences, Orphan Keith, Outbursts, Pidge's Awesome Robobeetles, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Red vs. Blue - Lion vs. Lion, Rivals to Romance (developing and hidden), Sleep Deprivation, Space Dad, WARNING: Brief Suicidal Thoughts (Shiro) and Memory of Suicide (Gladiator), relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-28 13:42:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7642849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maria_Albert/pseuds/Maria_Albert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Lance asks Keith how he met Shiro, and doesn’t believe Keith’s blatant lie – “I met him in an alleyway, at knifepoint” – Lance is determined to hear what really happened from Shiro. Unfortunately, a few moments of spying lead to misunderstandings, angry accusations, flashbacks and fighting, with even the Lions dragged into the chaos. Will the team ever be the same?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Don't Need Any of You

**Author's Note:**

> Point of view or time changes are marked by "0 0 0".
> 
> The first story in this series was written primarily during Season 1, to delve into Keith’s back story, the relationships in the teams, and the histories of the original Red and Blue Paladins. It takes place before canon ages were revealed: Shiro is 19 and Pidge is 16 when they first form Voltron, and Matt is also 19 at that time. This story takes place during the middle of Season 1, so the identities, details and back stories of the original Red and Blue Paladins, Keith, Thace, Zarkon and Haggar in the stories of this series also differ from Seasons 2 and 3 and beyond, though they will contain certain elements and characters. 
> 
> The second work in this series is primarily about Lotor, Matt, Sam, Thace, and the Blade of Marmora, but includes the Paladins, and is in the same universe as the first story, so it shares those divergences from canon. It is, however, standalone, as the differences are outlined in notes above key chapters. It spans two years, from the capture of Shiro, Matt and Sam on Kerberos, through Shiro’s escape to Earth and the formation of the Paladins and Voltron, through the end of the War, and the aftermath and repercussions when the Paladins finally return home, which threatens the Earth with annihilation.
> 
> The Voltron: Legendary Defender characters are under copyright or license by Toei Animation, World Events Productions, Netflix, Dreamworks Animation, Studio Mir and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain. The first work was simultaneously being posted on Fanfiction.net.

Chapter 1 - I Don't Need Any of You

_OK, so maybe deciding to sneak in and spar with Keith and the training bots wasn’t my best plan ever_ , Lance belatedly realized, as he barely rolled away from the sword in time to escape with what he hoped was minimal injury, his heart almost hammering loudly enough to drown out Keith’s frantic cry of his name, as his hand went to the searing pain in his left shoulder, which would have been in his chest instead, his heart, had he reacted just a fraction of a tick slower to the potentially fatal blow.

And then Keith was there, jamming his Bayard through the training bot, shorting it out completely, destroying it, instead of just disabling it.

_What the hell is he doing in here, day after day? Does Keith have a death wish? That thing tried to kill me! This isn’t training, it’s gladiatorial combat!_

“End training sequence!” Keith roared, and the half dozen other bots that had appeared with the destruction of his attacker froze.

“You _idiot_! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Keith demanded, as he fell to his knees beside him, dropping his Bayard to the floor, pulling at his right hand, which came away bloody and revealed an ugly looking slice.

“You could have lost your arm! You could have lost your _life_!” Keith yelled.

“Come on. I got away, didn’t I? This is just a scratch,” Lance claimed, trying to calm him down, because he didn’t think he’d ever seen Keith this upset over anyone but Shiro, and while for some reason that made warmth blossom in his chest, it also made him feel guilty.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Keith demanded, clamping his own hand to the wound, and hauling him to his feet by the shoulder, either in anger, to hurt him, or to get help and try and stop the bleeding, which was actually a lot heavier than he’d hoped.

“I just wanted to see what’s so appealing about this that you’d rather spend your time in here, with the bots, instead of with your teammates,” Lance snapped back, relieved his voice sounded accusing, rather than hurt.

“I train so that I can protect you when you screw up and nearly get yourself killed,” Keith snapped back, as he dragged him over to the medical kit on the wall that Lance hadn’t even noticed. He slapped a spot on the wall, and an examination table slid out. Instead of ordering him to sit on it, Keith actually scooped him up in his arms and laid him down on it, before Lance realized what he was planning to do.

“Now stay still and let me treat you,” Keith ordered, as he snapped open the kit, and took out scissors, antiseptic, sterile wipes, gauze pads, and medical tape, and began cutting away his shirt with confident speed and efficiency, as if he’d done this dozens of times before.

“So, do you get hurt a lot when you practice?” Lance asked, hating the silent accusation in Keith’s face, because he hadn’t done anything _wrong._ He had as much right to be in here as Keith.

“No,” Keith snapped.

The single word answer was typically infuriating.

“But what if the bots went rogue again? Or if you got seriously injured?” Lance challenged. “If you’re alone in here, there’s no one to help you.”

“I don’t need anyone’s help,” Keith snarled, as he cleaned the blood from the wound and assessed it with a critical eye, and then pressed a gauze pad to it.

“Right. Mr.’I’m too cool for school’ Academy dropout, got along just fine without a team. Blah, blah, blah,” Lance taunted, making a talking motion with his right hand.

 “I did. I don’t need any of you,” Keith claimed, as he began wrapping the medical tape around Lance’s arm to secure the gauze pad, his chest heaving under his tight gray T-shirt, every breath highlighting the firm pecs and abdominal muscles of Mr. “I don’t need you’s” perfect body.

“Yeah? Well we don’t need you either,” Lance snapped, Keith’s words hurting more than the wound, as he yanked the tape out of his hand and began wrapping the rest himself. “Honestly, what does Shiro even see in you? All the cadets in the Academy, and _you’re_ the one he wasted his time on? He was years ahead of you. You couldn’t have had any classes together. How the hell did you two even meet, anyway?”

Something besides anger flared in Keith’s blue eyes for a moment, something that looked surprisingly and uncomfortably like pain, before it was replaced by the more familiar flash of fury.

“You really want to know how I met Shiro?” Keith challenged. “I met him in an alleyway, at knifepoint.”

Lance gaped. That was not at all what he was expecting to hear. “Knifepoint? No way! Shiro would never-.”

“Not him, you idiot! Me,” Keith scoffed, with a disdainful glare that made Lance’s stomach flip in a weird way. “I was the one with the knife. I was mugging him.”

“You…what?” Lance asked in disbelief.

“So stop trying to be friends with me, before I get you killed! I’m no one’s friend.” Keith snatched up his red jacket and stormed off the training room floor, and out of the room.

Lance stared numbly at the doorway. _No, that can’t be right._ _Keith and Shiro met in the Academy, right? They must have. Keith just made that up. And I can prove it. All I have to do is ask Shiro._

He headed back to his room first, to change his cut and bloody shirt, because he didn’t need everyone to know he’d managed to get hurt again, not the way they worried about every scratch now, since he’d almost died when the Galra invaded the Castle.

After changing, Lance headed for the control room. Chances were, Shiro would be there, with Allura and Coran, planning, strategizing. But Coran was the only one there.

“Have you seen Shiro?” Lance asked.

“It’s been a while. He and Allura were heading outside, to patrol the perimeter,” Coran replied.

Lance nodded and turned. If it had been Shiro and Keith, Lance would have said, “Oh. Sure. ‘ _Patrolling the perimeter’_. Is _that_ what they’re calling it nowadays? Gotta love those Terran euphemisms, right, Coran?”

“Why are you scowling?” Pidge asked from right behind him, making Lance jump, and spin, and trip over his own feet. He would have fallen if Pidge hadn’t darted out a hand, in an epic save, fortunately grabbing his right arm.

“I’ve told you not to sneak… wait. I wasn’t scowling,” Lance argued.

“Sure you were. You’re doing it right now, see?” Pidge said, holding up whatever piece of tech she’d been tinkering with, something that looked like some kind of winged beetle, the shiny carapace making an effective mirror.

Yeah, that was definitely a scowl. “Well yeah, _now_ I’m scowling. Because you snuck up on me.”

“No, you were thinking about something that was upsetting you. Which means Keith and Shiro, because you don’t glare quite that badly when it’s just Keith,” Pidge said in an offhand, knowing way that made Lance regret he knew she was really a girl, because he really wanted to wipe that smug grin off her face. Not that she was smirking, but it was implied, and-

“Fine. Don’t tell me. I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t already heard a million times already. ‘Why is Keith such a jerk? Why is Shiro so perfect?’ Blah, blah, blah.” Pidge turned away and started down the corridor.

“Wait! Have you seen Shiro?” Lance asked.

It was Pidge’s turn to frown, but it vanished so fast, he thought maybe he’d imagined it. “Yeah. He’s ‘ _patrolling the perimeter’_ with Allura,” Pidge said, air quotes, snippy tone, catty innuendo, pout and all.

Lance was relieved to be back on familiar ground. “Ooh. S-o-m-e-o-n-e’s jealous,” Lance teased.

Pidge glared, then snorted. “Yeah. Takes one to know one, Romeo.”  And then she turned away.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lance demanded. “I am _not_ jealous of _Keith_. Or Shiro. Or anybody.”

Pidge just waved her hand dismissively, not even deigning to turn back around, clearly done with their conversation.

_Fine. Let her keep those wild suppositions cluttering up her devious little brain. Girls. Who needs them?_

Lance headed outside, to look for Shiro. Because now he _had_ to know how he and Keith had really met. If it was such a big secret that Keith was making up stories about it, something epic must have happened.

He’d always figured it had been a simulator battle, two pilots, facing off against one another in mock combat. Or maybe a literal battle, a fight inside the simulator, Keith being a typical hothead, screwing up the mission, and Shiro calling him out onto the carpet for it. Except that wasn’t really Shiro’s style. And pissed or not, Keith could fly pretty much better than anyone he’d ever seen, even Shiro, and _he_ was a legend at the Academy. Why else would they have trusted him with the Kerberos mission, instead of a seasoned pilot?

Lance headed outside the Castle. It was a perfect, beautiful day, which only brought home the fact that this planet wasn’t earth in vivid sense-around. Earth’s sky had never been that shade of lavender before, except maybe at twilight, but it was midday. It might be hot during the summer, but he shouldn’t be able to feel the heat just as strong from the right and the left, because Sol wasn’t half a binary star system.

The smells were all wrong too: no Terran flower ever had that tantalizing fried dough and cinnamon sugar scent that reminded him painfully of fresh churros. Plus the birds here whistled instead of chirped or sang, though they were actually more like flying reptiles with thin membranous wings like a bat’s, but brightly colored like a butterfly’s.

And he could literally taste the air – it was simultaneously both sour and sweet and thoroughly infuriating. Coran said it was actually the pollen in the air, from the trees, or what passed for trees here, but … _I want to go home._

The yearning that had been a physical ache in his stomach was turning into something more like a knifing pain now, and… knife. Keith. Shiro. With renewed determination, Lance looked for Shiro and Allura, determined to learn the truth.


	2. Losing Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:   
> Caution: Brief suicidal thoughts.

 

Shiro held Allura in his arms, her head resting against his shoulder. The position was familiar, but odd, disconcerting, wrong-feeling. Allura didn’t feel anything like Keith, and the last time he’d been in a hug like this, Keith had been the one embracing him.

Shiro stiffened, as there was a strangled squawk, or distorted yelp, spinning around, offering his broad back as a target, the need to protect Allura drowning out common sense for the moment.

Allura was the one to break the embrace, to draw her pistol, and aim, and fortunately, not fire at a gaping Lance.

“Wait. The two of you actually were…” he held up his fingers in air quotes, for some bizarre reason, but then stopped, his eyes widening. “You’re crying,” he accused Allura, as if it was a cardinal sin, or a crime. “Why are you…? You bastard!” Lance accused, grabbing Allura’s arm and yanking her forwards, or at least, he tried to.

Allura aborted the attempt, bringing Lance to his knees, his arm twisted painfully behind his back, reminiscent of when the two first met.

Shiro sighed. Some people never learned.

“I’m not the one who made her cry. I was just comforting her. You know, that’s kind of my job, isn’t it? ‘Space Dad’, right? Isn’t that what the rest of you call me?” Shiro snapped.

Lance’s eyes widened and Shiro belatedly realized how acerbic that had sounded. _Damn it._

He rubbed a tired hand over his face. He was only a few years older than the youngest of them, but with his shock of white hair and his ancient eyes he looked forty and felt like four hundred.

“We don’t mean it like-“ Lance started, but Shiro waived him silent.

“I know, I know. It’s just… “ Too much responsibility. Too much faith in someone who had screwed up so very badly, so many times. He’d gotten his first crew captured, possibly even killed. He should have reacted quicker during the attack, escaped from it somehow, or rescued them, instead of just saving himself, done something, anything. Instead, the best he’d been able to do was wound Matt, scare him out of his mind, get separated from him, and then abandon him and his father.

But almost worse, he’d broken his promises to Keith, left him abandoned and alone, after…

He jumped and grabbed, and his hand glowed, arcing towards his attacker’s chest to rip out his insides, even as the words, “Shiro, stop!” in a frantic, melodic voice commanded, and a vise-like hand wrapped around his bicep, but it still might not have been enough, until a flapping, buzzing, chittering giant metallic insect landed on his face. He clawed it off and realized to his shock and confusion that it wasn’t just metallic, it actually was metal, a robot. _Galra! They found us!_

Before he could strike out again, Pidge’s voice squawked tinnily from the robotic bug. “Shiro, calm down! It’s just Lance.”

_Lance? No!_ Horrified, he snapped his head around, the purple haze of his irrational fury vanished back inside his twisted brain, ready to lash out again, to attack his friends without warning.

This time Allura was the one initiating the hug, she was the one embracing him, the way Keith had, in his desert home, after he’d rescued him, with the others.

“It’s alright, Shiro. It’s my fault. I should have realized how much I was upsetting you. Forgive me. I’m usually stronger than that, but…”

His wordless nod was enough to stop her from debasing herself any further because of him.

“I’d be a little more impressed with our apparent new enhanced surveillance capability, Katarina, if it hadn’t just been directed at me,” Allura stated with all the haughty indignation of a warrior princess.

“It’s Pidge,” Pidge snapped.

“Normally, yes. But I think you and I both know that in this instance, I am correct. Shiro, I think you and… Pidge… need to have a talk,” Allura ordered imperiously.

“Stop trying to tell me what to do! You’re not my mother. I already _have_ a mother, safely back on earth! Unless Shiro has managed to get her captured or killed by the Galra too!” Pidge accused viciously.

“Pidge!” Allura and Lance both yelled, outraged.

Shiro staggered back, shaking his head in denial, and then he turned and ran, afraid of what he might do or say, the state he was in, terrified of causing anyone more pain.

“Shiro, come back!” Allura cried, more in desperation than command.

“Shiro! What the hell did you _do_ to him?” Lance demanded.

“I didn’t do anything! He hasn’t been sleeping,” Allura betrayed.

“Keith, get out here, now! It’s Shiro! Hurry!” Lance yelled.

_Damn it!_ He’d confided to Allura in confidence. The team didn’t need to know that it had been three days since he’d slept. Or was it four? It was getting hard to remember, and he was so tired he just… wanted to sleep forever. To never wake up. But only if it could be dreamless. Permanent. Final.

Shiro didn’t need to hear Black’s infuriated roar in his head to know he’d crossed the line with that one. “I’m sorry, buddy. I didn’t mean it, I swear. I wouldn’t, ever,” he promised aloud.

_Terrific_. He’d managed to upset Allura, Lance, Pidge, and even Black, when all he’d been trying to do was console Allura, to be the surrogate father she’d so desperately needed, just for a little while. But he was _everyone’s_ surrogate father, all the time, even Coran’s.

There was a second roar, and his face jerked up to the sky, because that had been completely different, not Black’s, and a battle roar, and… “Keith, what the hell are you doing? Why are you attacking Black?” Shiro demanded indignantly.

“I’m not! Red just… Damn it, I said stop, Red! I know you’re pissed at Shiro for thinking that, I am too, but you shouldn’t be taking it out on Black! I… shit! Shiro, get out of there!” Keith yelled, even as his Lion plunged down towards the ground, heading directly for him, Keith’s frustrated words having given the volatile Red Lion a new target.

Black lunged, intent on tackling Red to protect Shiro, but Red was too fast, too agile, until he suddenly wasn’t. Red was bucking and thrashing in mid-air, shaking his head furiously, as if he had a bee in his ear. Shiro didn’t know if that was because of Keith screaming words only they could hear, or maybe Pidge had an entire swarm of beetle spybots that she was attacking the Red Lion with.

Allura’s words echoed in his head. _“The Red Lion is temperamental and the most difficult to master. It’s faster and more agile than the others, but also more unstable. Its pilot needs to be someone who relies more on instincts than skill alone.”_

If anyone could master Red, Keith could, as long as his own temper didn’t add fuel to the fire. But Keith didn’t sound angry anymore, just desperate, which made Shiro feel even worse. Shiro knew if he was injured, Keith would blame himself, again, and even after all this time, Keith had never forgiven himself for the first time that had happened, the day they met.

“Guys, what’s going on? Where’s the enemy? All I see are Red and Black. Why are they fighting?” Hunk’s troubled voice came over Shiro’s communicator.

“Hunk, help Black calm Red down,” Shiro ordered.

“Wait, you mean Keith really _is_ attacking you?” Hunk accused, shocked.

“No! Red is attacking Black. Shiro isn’t even piloting him,” Keith explained desperately. “But stay back. I’ve almost got Red calmed down enough to stop attacking Shiro and Black, but if Yellow attacks him, all bets are off.”

And then Green was in the air too, and Black, Yellow and Green encircled Red – which was exactly the wrong move – because Red apparently felt at the very least ganged up on, if not outright threatened and trapped, and he attacked, going after Green first, apparently labeling Green the weakest. It angered Shiro, because Katie might be small, but she had more guts and more heart than anyone he’d ever met, except for Keith.

His vision sparked purple again, his tenuous control on his temper unraveling along with his mind, and his heart hammered in panic. If he lost control again, there was no telling how badly this would end. “Allura, knock me out! Hurry, do it, now!” Shiro demanded.

“What? No! I’d never-“ she argued.

And then everything went black.


	3. Not Human

“Lance? What the hell’s wrong with you?” Keith fumed, even as Black roared, and headed for the ground, for his downed and defenseless Paladin, for Shiro.

He was intercepted mid-air by Blue, and a tense and furious roaring session commenced. Fortunately, Red was just as stunned as Keith by the unexpected attack against Shiro, and Keith was able to regain control of Red while he was still processing what had happened.

“Stop being so melodramatic, he’ll be fine. And Lance isn’t the one who attacked him. I did,” Pidge snapped. “I just had Lance press my robobeetle against the back of Shiro’s neck because Shiro made its wings malfunction. If it could have still flown, I wouldn’t have needed Lance’s help. Now stop acting like a bunch of kids, and you Lions stop acting like cubs and get back to the hanger,” Pidge ordered, and Keith realized in shock that Pidge was trying to command the other Lions, as if they were in Black, not Green.

Fortunately, Black roared, echoing Pidge’s commands, and the other Lion’s obeyed, though not without some argument.

“Shiro’s not hurt?” Keith asked warily. He didn’t think Pidge would hurt Shiro, but tempers were running high, and it was pretty apparent that Pidge was jealous or angry or both, which meant Shiro and Allura. Which was actually kind of sweet. Sort of adorable. Shiro could use some adorable in his life, but also someone who wasn’t afraid to tell him what an idiot he was being, when he was one.

But most importantly, Shiro needed someone who literally wasn’t afraid of him, especially someone who could help lance that cankerous boil of guilt that was poisoning his mind and heart, and Pidge was one of the few people out there that could actually do that. Pidge didn’t blame Shiro for the loss of their father and brother, the way Shiro blamed himself.

“Not physically, no. And I’ll apologize to him as soon as he wakes up for what I said. I wasn’t thinking straight,” Pidge hedged.

Keith frowned, a sense of foreboding growing uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. “Tell me you didn’t say something to him about your father and brother. Something bad,” Keith challenged, holding his breath.

“I _said_ I’d apologize! And it’s not like he can hurt himself when he’s unconscious,” Pidge claimed, fortunately sounding guilty and defensive and worried, rather than callous, or Red would have gone after Green, and Keith honestly wouldn’t have tried to stop him.

“Pidge, do you have _any idea_ -“ Keith began, trying to force his voice to stay calm, level.

“Yes! Yes, I know exactly how badly I screwed up! And I know he’s not going to hate me for it, he’s going to hate himself instead and that just makes it _worse_ , and…” Pidge trailed off guiltily, in angry self-accusation.

“Back off, Keith,” Hunk demanded.

Red growled menacingly.

“Hunk, you really shouldn’t say anything to Keith right now. No one should,” Lance cautioned, across the comm. “We’re taking Shiro back to the Castle. Well, OK, Allura is, because he’s kind of heavy, but anyway, meet us there. We’ll fix this mess,” Lance assured them.

“Wait. Before we all go in, what were you all doing on the perimeter? Did you see something suspicious that we still need to check out?” Keith asked.

“We were just getting some air,” Lance claimed unconvincingly.

Realization dawned and Keith scowled. “You were going to ask Shiro what you asked me, weren’t you?” he accused, not wanting the others to become curious, too, because no one needed to know they had a feral criminal for a teammate. Well, any more than they’d already realized, anyway.

“Yeah, well, I knew _he_ , at least, would tell me the truth, or just say it wasn’t my business, instead of lying about it,” Lance accused.

“Wait. You think I was _lying_? You weren’t after more details, you wanted a different story altogether? Sorry if I didn’t measure up to your preconceptions, but frankly, I don’t see how you could think any less of me. I mean, you despise me, right?”

Keith hated that he sounded so bitter and dejected, so weak. On the streets, weak got you killed, and out here in space it had proven to be just as dangerous, so far. Not more dangerous, in spite of the higher level of danger, because at least here he had his team to watch his back. Back on earth, on the streets, he’d had no one. Until he met Shiro.

Because of that debt, that bond, his usual moral code didn’t apply, when it came to Shiro: he might not be a murderer yet, he might have drawn that line in blood long ago, but he would gut anyone who even tried to hurt Shiro, without hesitation or remorse. That was just the way it had to be.

0 0 0

“How long is he going to be unconscious?” Keith demanded, hating seeing Shiro lying there looking lifeless, pale and helpless, after an agonizing year of not knowing whether he was dead or alive.

 _“I promise you’ll never be alone again, Keith,”_ Shiro had sworn.

Shiro had lied.

Keith had been more alone than ever, surrounded by his fellow cadets, stifled by endless rules and regulations, unable to resort to any of his three usual ingrained precious options – to fight, to hide, to run – until getting kicked out of the Academy was more a mercy than a punishment. Then it had just been him, the empty shack, his memories, and the eerie voice of the Lion carvings, taunting him with something wondrous and terrifying, just outside his grasp. But then Blue had chosen Lance instead of him.

He’d expected to hate them both for that, but he honestly couldn’t get past the hurt of another in a long, endless string of rejections and disappointments, that started with his mother abandoning him as an infant, continued with every foster family that didn’t see him as anything more than a meager, anemic cash cow, until he’d finally learned that no one would ever care, that he was on his own for life, that something was fundamentally wrong with him: he was unloving and unlovable, friendless and impossible to befriend, homeless, hopeless, futureless and alone.

At the hand on his shoulder, he had his attacker on the ground, his Bayard at their throat, yanking it back a moment later, realizing Lance was the idiot who thought it would be a good idea to sneak up on him while he was remembering his former life. He smirked. Or brooding, as Lance liked to say to him.

“Really? You put a Bayard to my throat and twist my arm half off, and you’re smiling about it? You really did meet Shiro at knifepoint, didn’t you?” Lance bitched, as Keith grabbed his hand and helped him up.

Keith glared and abruptly let go, sending Lance back down onto the ground.

“So tell me, Keith, did you have to work really hard at it, or were you always a dick?” Lance challenged snidely.

Keith hated that he winced and drew back at the biting sting of Lance’s words. It wasn’t something he hadn’t heard before, dozens if not hundreds of times, but Lance was his teammate, and sort-of kind-of in a weird way almost his _friend_ , and hearing him say that…

If Shiro was awake, he’d give Lance “The Look”, the one that said without a single word that he was disappointed, that he’d expected better, and Lance would trip all over himself apologizing for being such a jerk. But Shiro was unconscious, and Keith had no idea how to fix his latest screw up. _Why do I always let my temper get the best of me and do and say the wrong things? How do the rest of them do this? What can I say to make things right?_

“I’m sorry,” Lance apologized unexpectedly. “I didn’t… I’m worried about Shiro, but I shouldn’t be taking that out on you. You didn’t do anything. We’re the ones who upset him, though I’m still not sure what actually happened.”

The tightness in Keith’s chest eased. He was still worried about Shiro, but at least now he could climb out of the well of self-loathing he was all too often trapped in and maybe do something to help Shiro, to actually try to be at least be a little worthy of his friendship.

“Why don’t you try to tell me anyway? And Pidge, any footage from that spybot you took might help,” Keith ordered, as if he had the right. But he knew Shiro best out of all of them. If he couldn’t figure out what was wrong… he didn’t really want to finish that thought.

0 0 0

Keith rubbed his hand across his face in frustration. “So nightmares and insomnia, being spied on, watched by surveillance robots, a boatload of guilt and responsibility, and a couple of sneak attacks on the side. You honestly couldn’t have recreated that Galran hell he was trapped in any better if you’d tried. No wonder his PTSD was triggered,” he accused bitterly. “Frankly, you’re all lucky to be alive. I don’t think the rest of you quite get how dangerous it is to piss me or Shiro off.  It’s like poking a flesh and blood lion with a stick.

“I hope you all realize that if Shiro ever _does_ manage to hurt any of you, if there’s ever a day he doesn’t pull back in time, or someone else doesn’t stop him… That’s the day you lose _two_ Paladins,” Keith said grimly, far more honest that he’d ever intended to be. By the looks of horror, they seemed to finally understand at least some of what he was trying to say.

“You make it sound like you’re both not even human. Like you’re not in control of your actions,” Lance said, frowning.

“We aren’t,” Keith agreed bluntly, not specifying what he was agreeing too, that he was agreeing to both accusations, because Shiro’s right arm was no longer human, and he’d never been.

_“Worthless brat. They couldn’t pay me enough to keep you.”_

_“I’ll give you a reason to cry.”_

_“Wild animal.”_

_“Demon child.”_

_“Feral freak.”_

_“Of course no one wants him.”_

There was an angry, denying roar, followed by a throaty purr in his head, and suddenly Keith could breathe again. _Crap._ From the look on his face, Lance knew something, though he wasn’t sure how much, or what. He hoped Red and Blue hadn’t been resonating again. It was bad enough both Lions heard his thoughts, that he’d heard Black’s, after Black heard Shiro’s, but when the Lions shared them with Lance, or Lance’s with him… he honestly didn’t need that kind of complications in his life right now. Or ever.

He was better off alone, the way he’d always been. Alone might not hurt less, but it was safer. There was no one to hurt or be hurt by, no one to betray or be betrayed by.


	4. Heart to Heart

Katie hated herself. Not like when she looked in the mirror and saw a weak, helpless little girl that could be permanently exiled from the Galaxy Garrison Base, and decided to do something about it, to cut her hair and fake her records and ID, to wear Matt’s clothes and enlist as a male cadet, so they wouldn’t suspect it was her. This ran a lot deeper than that.

She _knew_ Shiro wasn’t to blame for her father and brother being abducted. She’d seen the strength of the Galran Empire, their ships, their army. There was no way a tiny Terran exploratory ship, a three person scientific mission could stand up to that. Shiro had survived for a year as a gladiator solely because he refused to abandon his crew by dying, to abandon Keith.

Hurting Shiro the way she had, saying something that vicious, _on purpose_ , knowing how much it would hurt him. _What is **wrong** with me? I have better control than that, a better brain than that. I’m not some stupid fawning teenage girl with my first crush. I’m on a mission: rescue my family and go home to Mom. There isn’t time for anything else, energy for anything else. You can have a life later, after we’re all home safe._

Except they wouldn’t be, not all of them, and ultimately that’s why she’d attacked Shiro, hadn’t she? Because as long as they were a team, the universe needed them, to protect everyone. Destroy the team, and you get to go home. Destroy _Shiro_ , and you destroy the team.

_How could I even think that way, for one second? How could I be so selfish? So stupid? My family is going to die too. It’s not like another team of Paladins is going to miraculously appear to take our place, if we’re gone. We’re it, the universe’s last remaining chance at survival._

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” a voice said from right behind her, and she spun and drew her Bayard, and barely pulled back in time to keep from electrocuting Coran.

“Don’t sneak up on me!” Katie fumed, furious with herself for being so distracted. _What if it had been a Galran infiltrator instead? You’d have been dead, and the team destroyed, when we’d finally actually started working together. We’d started actually **being** a team, until I wrecked it._

“You’re just like-“ Coran began.

“If you say Allura, I’m going to fry you!” Katie threatened angrily.

Coran smiled sadly. “Actually, I was going to say King Alfor. He was such a wonderful man, a loved and benevolent ruler, a phenomenal father, but a grieving widower who let the loss of his wife color his every action thereafter.”

“Allura’s mother. She died in the War, didn’t she?” Katie asked, knowing it was true. She was shocked when Coran shook his head.

“No. It was worse than that. Her death is actually what started the War,” Coran admitted softly, and then he looked guiltily back over his shoulder, and then up at the surveillance camera, as if afraid Allura might hear.

“Did someone assassinate the Queen?” Katie asked, intrigued in spite of herself.

“No. She died of a rare illness. One caused, ironically enough, by the healing pods, which helped so many. But like anything else, moderation is the key, and Queen Asura… She was a lot like our Lance, never able to back down from a challenge. And no one challenged her like the Black Paladin.” Coran’s expression grew grim and mournful, but also… furious.

Katie’s eyes widened. _Coran hates the Black Paladin. The old one, not Shiro. I think. Does he hate Shiro? Just because he’s the new Black Paladin?_

“But I’m not here to talk about him, or even her. That’s a story for another time. I’m here to talk about you and Shiro,” Coran said, his voice fatherly.

Katie _hated_ that tone. Not because she didn’t like Coran, but because her father used to talk to her that way, and he was the one she wanted to be here now, not Coran.

Coran smiled ruefully. “I know I’m a poor second. I get that exact same look from Allura practically every time I open my mouth, that wordless accusation, ‘You’re not my father.’ I heard you used a similar line on Allura. In fairness to her, she actually has been trying to cast herself in a big sister role, not as a mother.

“She always wanted to have a sibling, a sister, especially, and she’s not that much older than you actually, and younger than Shiro. It’s the hard years of War that make her seem so much older, so much wiser. She has the poise and grace and bearing of a Queen, but not the experience of one: she’s still a lost and frightened little girl at heart. I think she’ll always balk at the title of Queen, though if we’re fortunate, if we survive this war, she’ll have no choice but become who she was destined to be, from the moment she was born to the Royal Family of Altaea.”

 _Wonderful. Allura’s going to become Queen of the Universe. What man wouldn’t want to become her consort or King?_ Katie wasn’t sure how Altaean political law would label Shiro. Shiro wouldn’t balk at being a consort, helping her rule, like a lot of men would. _Because Shiro’s amazing._

She felt the same warmth and pain in her chest that she always felt when she thought about him. _He thinks I’m a little kid. He’s always going to see me as Matt’s little sister._

“He’s not in love with her, you know: Shiro with Allura. He’s more of a father figure, though he’d prefer being an older brother. That’s the role he’s comfortable with, like with Keith. He doesn’t feel like he’s ready to be a father, not yet.” Coran sighed. “Possibly not ever. They did a lot of damage, when they held him prisoner. I shudder to imagine how much worse it would be now, if they recaptured him, now that he’s the Black Paladin.”

_Of course. Because Zarkon wants our Lions. He must really hate us, for keeping them from him._

“Coran! Report to the Control Room _now_!” Allura demanded imperiously over the intercom, and Coran winced.

“Uh oh. Looks like I’ve been caught. Although I suppose that’s a good thing, actually. Sometimes I talk too much,” Coran said with another rueful smile. “He’ll forgive you, you know. He’ll even forgive himself, given time. Just be there for him, when he needs you. It will all work out, you’ll see.”

“Coran!” Allura demanded.

“Coming, Princess!” Coran called with a little bow to the nearest camera.

Katie smirked. _Looks like I’m not the only one who likes spying._

_It’s time to stop sulking and man up. Go help Hunk work on those horrible food processors, so Shiro can have something decent to eat, when he wakes up._

Katie winced _. Seriously? You’re really going with ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach cliché’? If Matt was here, he’d_ _laugh at me. He’d tease me mercilessly. And he’d tell me I’m not old enough to date. But he wouldn’t object to Shiro. He couldn’t. Unless… Does Matt hate him, now? Not just for them being captured, but for Shiro escaping alone, and leaving them behind?_

“Hey, what’s with the face? Is Shiro worse? Did something else happen?” Hunk asked.

Katie realized with a start that she’d entered the Galley, that her feet had taken her there on autopilot.

“No. He’s still unconscious and Keith’s still not letting anyone near him. He makes a pretty effective guard dog, actually,” Katie joked.

To her surprise, Hunk frowned. “You shouldn’t say things like that. He won’t show it, but it upsets him when people compare him to an animal.”

Katie was surprised. _It does?_ “Then how can you tell?” she challenged.

Hunk smiled. “Years and years of experience. He’s a lot like my older brother. But if it’s not Shiro being hurt, then it must be… Right. Time to take your mind off it. So, I think I figured out a way to change the consistency from goo to paste, by decreasing the water content. And if we set the paste into a flat, wide tray, or on a cookie sheet or something, and let it air dry, maybe we can get something more the consistency of a ration bar, something you actually have to chew. We can start experimenting with different flavors, as well as textures. If we find and add some local nuts or berries to the mix, that will help with giving it substance and help it taste better.

“We really need to study the flora and fauna around us, learn what’s edible, set some snares, the way we did on Arus. Grill some cute little furry critters or maybe some ugly scary scaly ones, you know, so I don’t feel so guilty about wanting to eat them. I mean, you should have seen how hard it was for me to eat roast pork, and that’s a staple in my family. I never was a big fan of the whole head and hoof and tail thing, though. It’s a lot easier when it comes in a plastic package from the store, there’s that disconnect.

“Great, and now I’m hungry. Of course, I’m always hungry, but what I wouldn’t give to be at one of those cheesy touristy luaus I used to hate so much,” Hunk said with a sigh, as he spurted some repulsive green slime into a bowl and glared at it. “Yeah, I’m done here. How about you come with me and we go hunt some bunnies,” Hunk said, pushing aside the goo. “It’ll be easier to hunt if I’m hungry. And, you know, we can gather, too. Lots of gathering. So I can make us all a decent meal again.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Katie agreed, eager to get away from the Castle, to do something productive. Shiro hadn’t been sleeping earlier, but he also hadn’t been eating well either. It was hard for any of them to stomach the goo, but sometimes Shiro stared at his food and started to look as green as it did, like he was looking at a bowl of maggots or something.

She wondered what kind of horrible things he’d been forced to eat while he was a prisoner, though she honestly didn’t want to know. Just the thought of everything he must have gone through made her furious, and the thought that Matt and her father were still in that hell made it hard for her to sleep and eat too. The only reason she could was so she’d be in top form, when she rescued them. 


	5. I’m Here for You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:   
> Spoiler if you haven’t seen the Season 1 finale:
> 
> By the way, this story takes place before the Season 1 finale. So when in the previous chapter, Coran tells Pidge it would be much worse for Shiro to be recaptured now that he’s the Black Paladin, Pidge thought it was just because of the Lions in general: she didn’t know it was because Zarkon was the Black Paladin. That’s why Allura cuts in: because she didn’t want Coran to say too much.
> 
> Also, I heard it’s canon that Shiro is 25 and Pidge is 14, but when I started to write this, that wasn’t apparent. I honestly still don’t see Shiro as that much older than the others, who appear to be 17 and 18, except for Pidge. In my story, Shiro and Pidge are 19 and 16, respectively. At the most, in this and my sequel story, they will hold hands and kiss, until Pidge turns 18, because Shiro is an honorable man and his personal values wouldn’t condone anything else (as I see him).

 

Shiro awoke to pain in the back of his neck, disorientation, and the horrifyingly familiar and terrifying sensation of being watched, which drove every other thought out of his head, as he froze and tried to assess where he was and who was watching, without opening his eyes, in case they didn’t already realize he was awake.

“Calm down, Shiro. I’m the only one here,” Keith soothed, his voice gentle, far enough away that if he lunged and attacked when he woke up, that Keith could escape serious injury.

Shiro exhaled shakily, trying to get his pounding heart to calm, as he opened his eyes. _Not the Galrans._ He wasn’t still in that hell, or captured again.

He looked around the room, expecting to see the others hovering anxiously around him, in spite of Keith’s claim, and was surprised, concerned and disappointed not to.

“I told them it would be best if it was just me. So we could talk. Or fight. Whatever you need. Because I’m here for you, no matter what. You know that, right?” Keith prodded.

“I don’t deserve your loyalty, not after everything I put you through. Not after breaking my promises to you,” Shiro admitted shamefacedly. Because both the “you’ll never be alone again” promise of years ago and the “I’ll be back soon” promise had been blown straight to hell, torn to shreds, along with his ship, his body, his life.

“Yeah, well, like I told you before, it’s not like you asked to be captured, imprisoned, tortured, maimed and experimented on,” Keith said bluntly, shocking Shiro.

“What happened to the kid gloves?” Shiro asked, his voice tight; he could hear the tension in his own voice, the violence brewing just beneath the surface at those fragmented memories.

“You don’t need them. You’re strong enough to hear it, to take it. If they didn’t break you then, they sure as hell don’t get to have you now. Over their dead bodies,” Keith claimed.

Shiro winced. _“I’m not a murderer.”_ Keith hadn’t been then, but now? Now he was a killer.

_No_. Shiro forced the half-truth aside. Keith was a soldier, a warrior. Enemy combatants die in wars. That doesn’t make the soldiers who kill them murderers. It makes them dedicated, good triumphing over evil, freedom over slavery, in spite of the cost.

He looked at his arm, or the thing that had replaced it. Sometimes the cost was higher than other times. But he could pay it, as long as he was still human in spite of it.

_I am, aren’t I?_

He wished the voice inside his head wasn’t so tiny, so hesitant. He wished he had an answer.

“Stop thinking whatever you are right now. Crap like that is what put you in this bed. Talk to me, Shiro. Let me share the burden. My shoulders are just as strong as yours, you know. Stop trying to carry us all by yourself. You’re not protecting the team, by being a martyr.

Shiro frowned. “I’m not-“ he began, but was cut off by Keith.

“Bullshit. When’s the last time you slept? I mean other than being electrocuted into unconsciousness?” Keith demanded, sounding particularly venomous.

Shiro closed his mouth mid-argument.

“Yeah, I thought so. Come on, Shiro. You were in the Academy. You took the same survival classes I did. You know how deadly sleep deprivation can be, how impaired your decision making is, how psychologically unstable you can become, and that’s for someone who’s stable to begin with, who doesn’t have a year’s worth of hell trying to claw its way out of their head. Trust me, the more you let it out, the harder it is to contain. I can say that, because I know what that’s like. I was a half feral animal when I met and attacked you. You’re the one who made me human.”

Shiro shook his head. “No. You were always human, unlike those men you protected me from, the ones who tried to kill me. I won’t take the credit for who you were, for who you are now. I might have been there for you, but you did that all on your own, Keith: your determination, your intellect, your raw ability, your focus to harness your potential, channel it.”

“Spoken like a proud-“

Shiro winced.

“I was going to say, spoken like a proud older brother, you ass. Because I know you can’t handle how you think everyone sees you as a father figure. But I’ve got news for you, genius: I, for one, was too old to need or want a father. And Lance already has one, alive and kicking. So does Hunk. Coran’s at least like an uncle for Allura, if not a surrogate father. So that just leaves Pidge, who already _has_ a father. And frankly, even if they didn’t, I know Pidge sure as hell doesn’t want you playing the role of their father. Trust me when I tell you, Shiro, what you witnessed out there was the green eyed monster called jealousy, appropriately color coded to our youngest member. “

Shiro squirmed in guilt, and Keith rolled his eyes.

“Not this again! Come on, Shiro. You’re only 19 and Pidge is 16, so stop acting like Methuselah and allow yourself to feel something other than pain, for once,” Keith chided.

Shiro’s eyes widened. “ _You’re_ lecturing _me_ on pain? On feelings? On the right to be happy?” The second he said it, he hated himself for it. The last thing he needed was to upset Keith.

But thankfully and unexpectedly, Keith smirked. “Yeah. Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

Shiro nodded in silent relief. It was indeed, but he’d pay any price, as long as it spared his team, his friends, further pain.

Keith looked at him seriously. “So, are you going to be OK? No more suicidal thoughts? Feeling you’re unraveling? That you’re a program running Shiro’s body, and not really you?” Keith challenged, reciting some of the things Shiro had admitted to him both in the shack and in the weeks since back to him.

“I’m trying,” was all he could reply.

“OK then. Trying is good. It’s when you give up that things go south. So no giving up, OK? Not for our sake, but for yours. Because you honestly _do_ deserve the right to be happy.

“Look, I know you’re probably too wired to sleep right now, but later today, you’re going to sleep, with me here, so if you have nightmares, I can wake you up from them, and help you battle those memories and bad dreams. And no one is going to think any less of you, for any of this.

“Your mission for the next few days, Commander, is to sleep, eat, unload some heavy psychological crap onto me, or Allura, or Coran, or Black, whoever you think can help you most. That and relax, unwind, decompress. You think you can handle that without going all purple glow-stick on us?” Keith asked, pointing to his alien prosthetic arm with his chin.

One of the many things he loved about Keith was that he didn’t pull any punches: he was brutally honest with every word. “Yeah. I can handle it,” he agreed, eager to fix some of the few mistakes he could.

“Good. Alright then. Hunk’s been cooking all day – he and Pidge actually went out and found us some real, live – well, formerly live – food. Apparently he thinks food can fix everything and he cooks when he’s upset. So… Damn it, Shiro, stop that! All I meant was there’s going to be plenty of different dishes to choose from, actual food, so you won’t have any excuses not to eat. I recommend you eat in here, for this first meal, not just because your stomach might rebel in protest, but because if you’re out there, with them, you’re going to be too tempted to put on your ‘I’m fine’ veneer, and they’re going to start leaning on you again, before you’re ready. Although we had a team meeting about that, and we’re going to be sharing the load a lot more evenly now.”

“You had a team meeting without me? Who was in charge?” Shiro asked, not hurt, but genuinely curious.

Keith smirked. “Who do you think? Lance and Allura both tried to be, but Pidge and I wiped the floor with them. I know I’m too hot-headed to be your second in command, so you might want to assign the role officially to Pidge. Everyone listens to them, they’ve got more street smarts than the rest of you combined, and they’re devious and deadly in a fight.”

_“I already_ have _a mother, safely back on earth! Unless Shiro has managed to get her captured or killed by the Galra too!”_ Katie’s angry words were burnt like a brand into his brain. Katie had claimed not to blame him for her father and Matt being captured, but now he knew how she really felt.

“Damn it, Shiro! Pidge doesn’t blame you for their father and brother, not really. They were just angry and upset, and lashed out because of it. They already apologized to the rest of us about what they said, and they feel awful for upsetting you worse. Now, are you going to eat something, or am I going to have to force feed you?” Keith demanded.

Memory flared, of the Galran guards holding down one of their best gladiators, trying to get him to eat, after his lover was killed in the ring. Within a week he was dead: he’d purposefully dropped his guard and let his next opponent impale him.

“Shiro!”

Shiro clung to the name, the voice that spoke it, like a lifeline. No one called him by his name, they all had called him ‘Champion’, and he’d know Keith’s voice anywhere. He’d heard it enough in his memories and dreams while…

Suddenly the relief was gone. _Am I really free? Am I still there? Am I hallucinating Keith again? Am I finally, irrevocably insane?_

“ **SHIRO**! Damn it, snap out of it before I do something stupid like hit you,” Keith demanded. “Black, a little help here?”

There was a familiar, scolding roar, and then the warm reassuring buzzing purr of his Lion. He hadn’t known Black before or during his time as a Galran a prisoner, only after he’d escaped. Which meant he really was free.

Shiro opened his eyes and saw Keith’s worried face hovering over him.

“I’m sorry. I’m alright now. Or at least better, for the moment,” Shiro admitted sheepishly. Then he frowned. “That’s not the first time you’ve done that. Spoken to one of the other Lion’s, gotten them to hear you, listen to you. I haven’t told Allura, not directly, but I asked her if any Paladin’s other than Black can do that, and she said no.”

“It’s not like it happens a lot,” Keith said evasively.

Which meant it happened far more than the few times Shiro had been aware of, because he knew Keith well enough to decipher what he _really_ meant when he claimed something else.

Shiro stared silently.

“Alright. So maybe I can hear what Blue’s thinking, sometimes. And Lance. But I don’t hear the rest of you. Not you Paladins, I mean. Because I do hear your Lions sometimes. But it’s mostly Blue because – don’t you dare tell Lance, because he doesn’t need to know – but the original Red and Blue Paladins were… really close. And their Lions were too. And the Lions sort of still feel that way, so… It’s complicated and not something I’m going to talk about, not even to you, so just drop it, alright?” Keith hedged uncomfortably.

“OK. For now,” Shiro agreed.

Keith looked defensive but at least grateful for the temporary reprieve.


	6. Friendly Rivals

It took two days for Lance to get Shiro alone, because after coming to, he slept for fifteen straight hours after talking to Keith for almost six, and Keith was hovering protectively the rest of the time. The concept of Keith speaking to _anyone_ for that long was mindboggling, but Lance figured Keith mostly just listened. The two ate meals alone together in Shiro’s room, or in Keith’s. Keith literally hadn’t left Shiro’s side, and he had initiated twelve shoulder squeezes and received nine, that Lance had seen. Not that he was counting, but it was just so blatant, anyone could see them. He hadn’t seen them touch more than that – no hugs, no kissing – but they were alone together a lot too and...

Lance felt his stomach clench and his face flush at the thought. There was no definitive proof that the two men were together now, or that they had, in fact, ever been anything more than good friends. Best buddies. Except for the clothes in Keith’s cabin. Shiro’s clothes. Because there’s no way that outfit had ever fit Keith, and there had been more clothes in that drawer, and only one bed, and it really wasn’t any of his business who the two of them slept with, but still…

Blue growled.

_Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, buddy. I don’t like thinking about that either._ Lance was able to admit that silently, to Blue, something he’d never say aloud, for fear of Keith finding out. Anyone finding out. Besides, it kind of got hard to breathe when he thought about it too much.

It would help if he knew how they’d really met. Well no, it probably wouldn’t, but he needed to know anyway. And now that Lance finally had Shiro alone, he was going to find out what Keith had been trying to hide.

“Hey, Shiro. So I was wondering, how _did_ you actually meet Keith?” Lance asked without preamble, yet trying to sound casual, to conceal how much he really wanted to know.

“He saved my life,” Shiro replied bluntly.

“I knew it! Well, not that he did _that_ , but that it couldn’t have been what he said. _He_ said he mugged you,” Lance said triumphantly, hiding the hurt of knowing Keith actually _had_ lied to him.

Shiro started and looked at him in surprise. “He actually told you about that? He admitted to you that he mugged me?”

Lance frowned, completely confused. “Wait. So he _did_ …? What did he do, try to steal your lunch money or something and you kicked his arrogant ass?”

Shiro looked sheepish. “No. I was the arrogant one: stupid, cocky, overconfident, inattentive and distracted. And we weren’t on base. It was before Keith was a cadet. The reason he became a cadet, actually,” Shiro admitted.

Lance’s eyes widened in eager anticipation as Shiro’s grew distant with memory.

0 0 0

“I can be your leave buddy up until we hit the City, Shiro, but from there, you’re on your own. There’s no way I’m wasting another leave in the arcade with you. I’m going to be spending the day with Emily,” Shiro’s roommate Mark said with an engaging grin.

“The same Emily you met on leave last month, when you ditched me? The one you’ve been texting every night since, after lights out? What a surprise,” Shiro joked.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Of the two of us, whoever thought _I’d_ be the one getting a steady girlfriend,” Mark replied sheepishly. “Girls practically throw themselves at you, and I thought you’re supposed to be the respectable, responsible one.”

“I am, but I’m also in the Exploratory Program. I was too young, I missed the Io mission, but there’s no way I’m going to let them pick anyone else to pilot for Kerberos. And going that far out, being gone all those months? I wouldn’t want to put a girlfriend through that,” Shiro replied seriously.

“Shiro, that’s gotta be at least two years from now, maybe three! You’re sixteen years old! You can’t tell me you’re going to live like a monk until then,” Mark scoffed.

Shiro just smiled back. Nothing could distract him from Kerberos.

The whole way on the bus into Tyson City, Mark talked about the Kerberos mission with him. Shiro figured it was more out of guilt for planning to ditch him than true interest, but he didn’t care. Every time he brought it up at home, his parents got really quiet, which was saying something, considering the dangers of their respective jobs: his mom was a firefighter, and his dad was an EMT. Both first responders, first into danger. It was in his blood from both sides of the gene pool.

They hadn’t tried to dissuade him from his dream, but they hadn’t exactly supported it, either. But they respected his choice, at least.

Shiro and Mark both sat impatiently through the standard, “Watch your wallets, stay with your partners, keep away from the south side of the city where the gangs are, and don’t miss the bus back,” speech, the same one each of them had memorized during their first year. Inevitably someone would have their pocket picked, and people would head out on their own and get into mischief, but no one was stupid enough to go to South Side and no one had ever missed the bus before. There were demerits, and then there were, “knifed to death in an alley” and “not right for the Program,” level mistakes.

As soon as they were out of sight of Sergeant Walker, Shiro and Mark headed their separate ways, Shiro heading for the arcade, eager to get there before too many other cadets descended on it, even though most of them would be playing the shooter and driving games, not the piloting simulators, and only staying for an hour or two. Shiro never got enough of flying, and apparently neither did his archrival, Keith.

He grinned just thinking of the mystery pilot, who he had yet to meet. Every leave, when Shiro entered the arcade, and checked the high scores, Keith’s name would be plastered all over the top ten scores on both the fighter jet and spaceship simulators. And every leave he’d meticulously replace Keith’s name with his own in every single slot. Which was another reason he didn’t have time for a girlfriend or boyfriend, unless his name was Keith. His heart sped up just thinking about actually ever meeting him, but also, about all the flying he was about to do, as he turned the familiar corners for the arcade, and he felt his face lighting with a predatory grin, which was abruptly extinguished. He stared in shock at the burnt out ruin where the arcade had once stood.

“What happened?” he asked aloud, starting in surprise when he received an answer.

“Do you want the official answer, or what really happened?” Mr. Flores asked, as he added some more mangos to the display in front of the bodega where Shiro always bought his lunch on leave, unwilling to leave the arcade long enough to go to an actual restaurant.

“The truth, sir,” Shiro replied succinctly and politely.

Mr. Flores sighed. “Always so good, so polite. Not like the animal that burnt out Mr. Martinez.” Then he looked around cautiously, nervously. “It was the Coyote,” he said, much more softly.

“Coyote?” Shiro asked, perplexed.

Mr. Flores shrugged. “I don’t know his name, but the small, dirty, hungry one, in the bright red jacket. He is feral, that one, but you’re right, maybe not a coyote. Coyotes, they hunt in packs, but that one, he is always alone.”

“But why would he burn down the arcade?” Shiro asked, puzzled.

“Mr. Martinez, he catches him smashing one of the games, the spaceship one, you know? It was only a week ago, three weeks after you cadets last come. The Coyote, he is angry, because his name is gone from the machines and he is trying to make it go back, but this time, he is always losing. Mr. Martinez, he says usually he plays for hours on a single dollar, but he spends forty dollars in only four hours, until finally, he yells and breaks the screen. Mr. Martinez, he tells him he call the police and the boy, he runs. Mr. Martinez he call out he never come back. That night, the arcade, it burns.”

Shiro felt terrible. What had been a friendly rivalry, a challenge he’d come to eagerly look forward to every month, had apparently been a source of frustration and anger for Keith, and Mr. Martinez was the one who had suffered because of it. That Keith had committed arson because of it was inexcusable. Someone could have died, Mr. Martinez, or firefighters like his mom, EMTs like his dad. And Mr. Martinez had lost his livelihood.

“Was he insured? Will he be alright?” Shiro asked

Mr. Flores shrugged. “He told me he is going to live with his daughter in Santa Fe.” He sighed. “Me, there will not be so many who come here to buy food now. But that is life. It kicks you in the teeth when you least expect it.”

Shiro nodded and then headed inside the store. The least he could do was buy lunch, the way he would have if the arcade still stood. But afterwards, he had no idea where to go. He’d never really done anything else in town. Although it was actually really more a small city than a large town.  There must be something else interesting to do.

He started walking, eating as he walked, occasionally stopping to look in store windows, but mostly keeping an eye out for a small, hungry looking boy in a red jacket, wishing he’d gotten a little better description from Mr. Flores.

Ironically, thirty or so blocks later, he was pretty sure he’d found who he was looking for, although the jacket was nowhere in sight. In retrospect, he should have been paying more attention to the street signs and buildings, and less to the people. Shiro hadn’t realized he’d somehow ended up heading south, or how dilapidated the buildings around him had become, as he took a shortcut through a narrow alleyway, until after he was tackled to the ground, a knee to his back and a knife at his throat, a second hand grabbing for his wallet in his pants pocket, faster than he could blink.

Shiro reacted without thinking, exactly as he’d been taught in his martial arts class at the Academy, slamming his hand into the knifewielder’s wrist, squeezing and twisting, until the knife fell, flipping and pinning him to the ground with his superior height and weight, reversing their positions.

He found himself on top of a scrawny, dark haired, blue eyed boy. He was wearing a gray T-shirt, not a red jacket, but he had a dark red bandana tied over his nose and mouth, to hide his features. There were probably lots of small, scrappy kids in this city. This boy couldn’t have been more than twelve years old. Was this the kid who had bested him month after month on the flight simulator? His reflexes were certainly fast enough for it to be him.

“You’re Keith, aren’t you?” Shiro hazarded on a wild hunch, and the struggling boy stilled for an instant, his eyes widening, and then he fought like a demon to free himself. Shiro winced as elbows and knees impacted viciously.

“Stop! I don’t want to hurt you! I’m Shiro!” he yelled desperately, hoping it really was Keith, as his hold slipped, that his name might trigger some reaction other than panic.

The boy stilled again. “You’re Shiro?” he asked suspiciously.

“Well, look what we’ve got here. Two little lovebirds fucking on our turf,” a voice said acidly from behind.

Terror and then anger and determination flashed across Keith’s face, and suddenly Shiro was thrown back, and Keith was on his feet, his knife out, but this time he was standing with his back to Shiro, facing the opposite end of the alley, as Shiro scrambled to his feet.

“Raven turf ends on 19th, and Razor turf starts on 17th. 18th is mine,” the boy snarled.

There was a snort of amusement. “You don’t have turf, boy. But it’s been a while since we’ve had a cadet to play with. You give us the cadet, your knife, and whatever money you’ve got, and maybe we’ll let you walk out of here alive.”

_Shit._ There were a full dozen punks, each wearing a black leather jacket, in complete disregard of the heat. He’d managed to stumble into one of the notorious South Side gangs the Sergeant always warned them to steer clear of.

“Go find your own cadet. This one’s mine,” Keith snarled possessively, surprising Shiro.

_Is he actually really trying to protect me?_

“You willing to bleed for him, pretty boy?” one of them challenged.

“I’m willing to cut you for him,” Keith snapped back, knife raised, weight balanced on the balls of his feet, looking ready to spring.

The gang surged forward, and Keith launched himself at them, yelling, “Run Shiro!”

Shiro was too busy attacking the nearest three gang members to take the command seriously. When he finally had a split second between blows to see if Keith was alright, he was shocked to see six gang members lying on the ground in a circle at Keith’s feet, but one other had the boy pinned against his chest and another was viciously pounding him with his fists. There was no sign of Keith’s knife.

Shiro lunged forwards, tearing the thug pinning Keith away from him, then gasping at a sudden shooting pain in his side. Shiro downed his foe but then, to his consternation, stumbled and fell to one knee.

“Shiro!” the boy yelled, panic in his voice, and then there was a snarl, something animal sounding, not human, and the sounds of more fighting, even as Shiro fell face first into the ground, his hand reaching for his burning side. His eyes widened and his spine went cold when he felt the hilt of a knife sticking out of his side.

_I’ve been stabbed,_ he realized incredulously.

Abruptly the sounds of fighting stopped.

A moment later, a hand was dipping into his right pocket, and then his left, pulling out his wallet, and then his phone. _Keith._ He saw his face clearly, the bandana torn away during the fight, but then for some reason it started to blur, it became indistinct, almost like it was suddenly foggy.

He’d been knifed, he was bleeding in an alley, and now Keith was robbing him, but he couldn’t move to stop him. Keith had told him to run before, but now he was leaving him to bleed to death, and without his wallet, they wouldn’t know his name, and he wouldn’t have a phone to call for help, or for the Academy to use it to find him, when he didn’t make it back to the bus, to track him through GPS. Not that he’d live that long. At least some of those gang members would likely be getting up again soon; they’d finish him off if the knife wound didn’t.

“I need the police, lots of them, and an ambulance,” Keith demanded, sounding breathless, and Shiro realized to his shock that Keith must have dialed 911, that he was using his phone. “Two ambulances. I’m a cadet at the Academy, my name is Takashi Shirogane. I’m sixteen years old.” Shiro realized Keith must be reading off his ID. “I’m in the alleyway off of 18th, near Sagebrush. I was attacked by the Ravens, I’ve been stabbed, in the side, the knife’s still in me, but I’m still bleeding really badly, and I’m going to pass out soon.” The way Keith’s voice was sounding weak and wheezing made it sound likely that Keith would be the one passing out soon.  

“I’m in a black shirt, jeans and boots. There’s another boy with me, a…friend… from the City. His name is Keith Kogane, he’s fourteen, he’s in a grey T-shirt, black jeans and sneakers. He’s unconscious. I think his ribs are broken, that he might have torn a lung. He’s bleeding from the mouth,” Keith said truthfully, as he wiped a smear of blood from his face, with the hand holding the phone, and then put it back to his ear.

Keith was swaying, and it looked like all his weight was on his right leg. “I think his right arm and maybe his left leg are broken too. Everyone else here is a Raven. Don’t put us in with them, in the hospital, or they’ll kill us,” Keith said, as he stumbled, and fought to stay standing. “Hurry,” he added, and then the phone and the wallet both fell from his limp hand, as he crumpled to the alley floor, letting out a horrible, whimpering cry as he hit.

Everything Shiro’s father had ever taught him about trauma medicine flooded his mind, but he was helpless to do anything to help himself or Keith. _Keith didn’t rob me. He was getting my wallet for my name, my phone to call for an ambulance._ _Would he have, though, if he hadn’t been badly hurt too? No. He told me to run, he tried to face off a dozen gang members by himself, when he could have run instead, or at least tried to make a deal with them, given me to them, in exchange for his own life. Even if he did burn down the arcade… Did he really do it, or was he just a convenient scapegoat?_

There were wet, rasping gasps coming from Keith. The sound was terrifying. Shiro was afraid Keith might have punctured a lung, that he was dying. He knew he was bleeding internally, from what he’d said, from his bloody mouth.

Shiro started to hear the sounds of gang members groaning and stirring and silently cursed. The police were going to arrive too late.

No sooner had Shiro thought that, than he heard the sound of approaching sirens. EMTs, it sounded like. This wouldn’t be the first time they beat the police to the scene of a crime. He only hoped none of those brave men and women got hurt or killed trying to help them.

_Keith Kogane. Fourteen. He doesn’t look fourteen. Do his parents feed him, or does he have to steal to eat? But he has the money to play in the arcade. Although… it didn’t sound like he normally spends much. He flies like a well-trained cadet, but he’s so damned young. Fourteen. He’d known enough not to pull out the knife, to know what torn lungs and broken bones felt like. Damn it. What the hell’s happened to that kid?_

_He jumped me, tried to rob me, but didn’t hurt me. He could have slit my throat just as easily, killed me and then robbed me. Or he could have given me to the Ravens. I told him my name, he knew I was his rival in the game, but he didn’t look angry. Shouldn’t he, if what Mr. Flores said is true? But he doesn’t hate me._

_What’s going to happen to him? If Keith burnt the arcade down, he’ll need to go to jail… or juvenile hall. He’s only fourteen. Does he go to school? It’s summer now, but does he ever?_

It was extremely telling that Keith could calmly tell the police about a dozen people trying to kill him, but his voice had hitched saying the word “friend”. The thought hurt almost worse than the knife had. It awoke a fierce protectiveness in Shiro, a determination to truly become Keith’s friend. Assuming they both lived long enough. Keith’s breathing was a labored, choking gurgle. He was terrified the EMTs were going to arrive too late to save him.

Then a blurry face was bending over him and he panicked, cursing himself for being distracted, until he saw the uniform and realized to his relief it was an EMT. He felt an ache worse than the knife, wishing it was his dad.

“It’s alright. You need to stay calm,” the woman soothed, but her voice sounded odd, muffled, like she was speaking from under a blanket. No, it was like _he_ was under a blanket. It was hard to breathe.

“Keith! Help… Keith,” Shiro whispered, hating that he couldn’t be forceful about it, that he couldn’t demand she go to Keith first.

“Calm down. My partner’s working on him right now,” the EMT assured him. “You just concentrate on staying awake and breathing, OK?”

Shiro felt something hard and plastic pressing against his face and panicked for a moment, until he realized it was an oxygen mask. Then the realization had him trying to panic again, but he kept hearing his father’s soothing voice, overlain by the strange EMT’s, telling him to stay calm, to breathe, as he heard his vital signs being recited and felt hands at his neck, his side. And then he didn’t feel anything at all.

0 0 0

Shiro awoke to a white ceiling, white walls, white sheets, a tube in his arm, and the ashen face of his roommate Mark hovering over him.

“Shiro? Can you hear me?” his roommate asked, sounding timid and afraid, nothing like Mark normally sounded.

“I’m fine,” Shiro croaked, through a horrendously dry mouth, knowing he was anything but.

“Thank God! They said you were going to be, but you looked… I thought… they said… Ice chips. I’m supposed to give you ice chips,” he said, carefully tipping a cup and letting him suck on a few, until they melted, the thin trickle of water the most wonderful thing he’d ever tasted.

“What _happened_? Did you really try to fight an entire gang all by yourself? Why?” Mark asked sounding shocked, dazed.

_By myself?_ Shiro frowned and then his eyes widened as he remembered. “Keith! Where’s Keith? Is he alright?” Shiro demanded.

“You mean that other guy they brought in with you? How do you know anyone…? Wait a minute. _Keith?_ You don’t mean your rival? Simulator Keith? You finally met him?” Mark asked, sounding more like himself.

“Yeah. Only not the way I thought I would. Do you know if he’s going to be OK? He was hurt worse than I was,” Shiro admitted worriedly.

“I don’t know how he’s doing, other than… Well, I mean, he’s not dead or anything,” Mark fumbled.

_Not dead. OK. I can work with that,_ Shiro thought in relief.

“The police want to talk to him, though. To both of you. About that gang, but I think maybe other stuff too,” Mark admitted worriedly.

_The arcade? Or robberies Keith committed? Muggings?_

 A nurse came in, and when she saw he was awake, she scolded Mark for not telling them. She began asking him questions, and told him about his diagnosis, and that his parents were flying in to see him. He felt awful, knowing how worried they must be. Then Sergeant Walker came into the room, driving all thoughts of his parents temporarily out of his head.

After the Sergeant, it was the police’s turn. Shiro told them the same story he told the Sergeant, embellishing the story Keith had already told when he called 911. He and his friend Keith were walking together, and apparently accidentally entered Raven turf, and the gang attacked them. 

He was able to figure out from some of the questions the police asked that Keith was an orphan, a runaway from his last foster home, from all of his foster homes. They were actually concerned Shiro had been taking advantage of Keith, sexually, at first, though they admitted the hospital hadn’t found any physical evidence to that effect. They were still suspicious. Just the thought of that made Shiro sick, that they’d actually had to check for that, that maybe someone else had, although, from what he’d seen of the way Keith fought, it wouldn’t be easy for anyone to prey on Keith.

After repeatedly asking to see Keith, he was finally allowed to visit him, under supervision, even though he was in ICU, because he wasn’t currently in danger of dying, and he didn’t have any parents, or apparently anyone else to visit him.

If Keith had looked scrawny before, he looked pale and ghastly now, and dismayingly small and helpless, at least until he looked into his eyes: there was fire there, not only fierce, burning intelligence, but rebellion, animation, life. He was incredibly alert and aware, Shiro realized in relief, as he observed Keith interacting with both him and the hospital staff, but sadly, he viewed everyone with equal mistrust, suspicion.

It wasn’t until his own parents came to see him, in Keith’s room, that Keith’s entire demeanor changed. When Shiro finally broke free of their careful hugs and introduced them to Keith, Keith couldn’t meet their eyes. At first, he thought it might be guilt, because he’d tried to mug him and he’d been stabbed, but he realized it was more than that, sadder than that: it was as if Keith couldn’t bear to see how loving they were, how worried, and protective of him, as if the whole concept was foreign to him, if not anathema.

Suddenly Keith was surly and brittle and aggressive: it was as if he were a different boy entirely. But he didn’t know Shiro’s parents. They’d both dealt with more than their fair share of homeless kids and runaways before. They knew what not to ask, as well as what to say and how to say it. And once Shiro told them Keith had saved his life, both fighting off their attackers and calling for the ambulance, Keith’s expression changed to one of shock, as if he’d expected Shiro to throw him under the bus instead, to blame him for being injured.

Shiro refused to leave Keith’s room until he was certain he wouldn’t try to run again, not yet. He knew that physically, Keith wouldn’t have made it far, without tearing his lung again, without dying. He was certain Keith knowing that too was the only thing that kept him there. He wasn’t like a coyote at all, but more like a feral alley cat, bristling and hissing and spitting when anyone tried to get to close, trying to hide how terrified he was with a façade of strength. He was sure Keith would have run regardless of the danger, had he heard his parents start speaking seriously about adopting Keith. It would have been completely overwhelming.

Instead, Shiro convinced them to sponsor him to the Academy, after speaking to Keith about it, the chance to not only use the Academy simulators, but to fly actual planes an enticement Keith couldn’t refuse. Once he heard more about the Academy, Shiro’s classes and his instructors, Keith had jumped at the chance, though the clincher hadn’t even been learning to fly, it had been the cafeteria, and the dorms: three square meals a day and a roof over his head, without some asshole trying to beat him or trying to do worse to him. Shiro was relieved. This way Keith could recuperate on base, along with him.

Thankfully, when Shiro determinedly brought up the issue of both physical and sexual abuse, Keith was very clear about the fact that no one had succeeded in the latter, but it infuriated Shiro to hear that more than a couple of people in his foster homes had, in fact, tried, both parents and siblings, and the thought of anyone hitting Keith, let alone beating him senseless and breaking bones had Shiro seeing red.

Two months later, only a month after Keith was released from the hospital, and thankfully just before Keith’s casts came off, for the impact they made on the juries, Shiro had taken great satisfaction in testifying against the Ravens with Keith.

0 0 0

“Shiro? Are you OK? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Lance said worriedly, making Shiro feel sheepish, as he was forcefully dragged back to the present.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. I was just remembering. Actually, hellish as the day Keith and I met was, it was also pretty great. It was the day I met my best friend. And since I know you’ve been wondering, that’s who Keith is to me: my best friend. He’s like a brother to me. I think he might have wanted something else, but he was so young – in age, if not experience – and there was also a lot of guilt. I got stabbed, the day we met, although he actually got hurt a lot worse than I did. He nearly died. He also nearly got arrested for arson, for something that happened the week before, though he wasn’t guilty of it – the gang that attacked us was.”

“A gang? You were attacked by a gang? You were stabbed and he was…?” Lance asked, looking shocked and appalled.

Shiro’s lips quirked in a smile. “Yeah. He’s kind of a dangerous guy to befriend. Not that it’s his fault,” Shiro was quick to qualify. “Trouble just seems to follow him wherever he goes. And sorrow. Guilt. Heartbreak. Just knowing Keith is proof positive that the universe isn’t fair. He really got dealt a bad hand. It’s amazing, what he’s done, who he’s become, considering how the cards were stacked against him. I hate that I had a hand in knocking him back down again, when I was trying to help him get onto his feet.

“Promise me one thing Lance. No, two things: that you’ll never intentionally hurt him, and that you’ll never break a promise to him. The two of us can forgive you for anything except that,” Shiro said, looking intently into his eyes.

He saw Lance fidget under his gaze, but he continued to meet his eyes. “Of course I wouldn’t. Hurt him, I mean. Or break a promise. Not that I can picture myself promising him anything, but yeah – I’m a man of my word. My mom didn’t raise any jer… um… uh… Did _you_ ever break a promise to him?” Lance asked, in sudden comprehension.

Shiro reluctantly nodded. “I broke two. Not intentionally, but I did, and I hurt him worse than anybody, when I did. And he spent a year of his life looking for me, he rescued me from the military and he forgave me for abandoning him. I’d walk through fire for him. He’s the reason I survived. The reason I was able to make it back from that Galra hell. I’ll die before I let anyone hurt him. Although I know that would hurt him worst of all. So no, I can’t die. I’m going to make it, no matter what those bastards do to me. No matter what they did to me,” Shiro swore, looking down at his prosthetic arm.

“We won’t let them hurt either of you,” Lance swore impulsively, with such conviction, that Shiro almost believed it was true. Almost. But he knew their War was far from over, and that in war, anything can happen. And probably would, before they were done. 


	7. Sticks and Stones and Broken Bones

 

The second he saw Lance, Keith knew he’d been talking to Shiro. Lance had given him a lot of different looks in the past, but pity sure as hell hadn’t been one of them, until now.

“What the hell did he tell you?” Keith demanded furiously.

“Nothing!” Lance replied far too quickly, looking away guiltily.

“Bullshit,” Keith snapped grabbing his arm and forcing Lance to face him.

Lance threw up his other arm in frustration. “Really! Almost nothing! He told me the day you met, he got stabbed, but you almost died, and that a gang attacked you and burned something, but that was it, and I wasn’t about to ask for details, because he kind of checked out for a while there, the way he does, and I was afraid he’d remember something really bad if I asked, so I just dropped it.”

“Shit. He had another flashback?” Keith demanded, pulling Lance towards him by the arm he was still holding.

“What is it with you and him and all the touching?” Lance demanded, his face flushing as he yanked his arm away.

Keith scowled at him, “What touching?”

“The two of you, you’re always touching each other. You know, the shoulder squeezes. But with me, you nearly rip my arm off,” Lance accused.

Keith felt his own face flare with heat. Shiro’s parents and more than a few social workers had been worried by the violent way he reacted to human contact, to being touched, and the aggressive way he touched others. A number of foster parents had gotten pissed when he responded to attempts at hugging with punches. The ones who got it at all said it was one of the clear indicators of past abuse.

Only Shiro had been able to figure out what he needed. Keith hated being touched, but he was conversely touch-starved. A gentle but firm hand on the shoulder, a brief squeeze, would ground him. His flaring temper would cool, his need to do something reckless, dangerous would fade. Shiro made him feel human. And ever since rescuing Shiro from the soldiers, after he escaped from the Galra, Shiro had suddenly needed to be on the receiving end of those same touches, as much or even more than on the giving end. Initiating comfort had been foreign to Keith, until the night they rescued Shiro, but Shiro assured him he was good at it.

And now Lance, of course, told him he was hurting him. Lance didn’t want to be touched by him. He shouldn’t have cared, he should have been glad, but something about that rejection hurt.

“Oh no you don’t. You don’t get to bruise me and then give me the kicked puppy look. I’m not your damned chew toy!” Lance protested ridiculously.

“And I’m not a dog!” Keith snarled, infuriated. He _hated_ when people talked about him like he was some kind of animal.

“No, you’re an ass,” Lance accused.

“Just get out of my way. I can’t waste time on you, if you’ve upset Shiro,” Keith huffed, to hide the hurt. He wasn’t prepared for the flash of pain in Lance’s eyes, though it was gone so fast, he almost thought he’d imagined it.

“Yeah, right. Best buddies my ass,” Lance scoffed.

 _What the hell?_ It almost sounded like Lance was jeal… _Shit. Fuck. Lance has a crush on Shiro. Of **course** he does. Pidge has a crush on Shiro, and Allura. I’m surprised Coran and Hunk don’t, too._

Keith felt the familiar hated bolt of rejection shoot though him, and he reacted the way he always reacted to pain and loss and humiliation: viciously.

“You know, that’s all he’ll ever see you as: buddies. If he caves to anyone, it’s going to be Pidge. They’re perfect for him, actually. Shiro likes strong women, because of his mom, but even though Allura’s strong too, she’s too beautiful, too perfect, too girlie. Pidge isn’t like that: as a girl, she’s pretty, as a boy, he’s cute, but.... Although they’re not really trans you know, or even gender fluid, they’re just cross-dressing, though I think they’re starting to confuse themselves, so I figured I’d just use gender neutral pronouns, until they figure it out.”

“What the hell are you rambling about?” Lance demanded, looking confused.

“Forget it. You wouldn’t understand,” Keith snapped derisively. “All I’m saying is, it doesn’t matter if they’re Pidge or Katie. Shiro’s eventually going to realize that when you give it a few years, the age difference isn’t really important: three years is nothing. But when it comes to you, trust me: he’s not interested,” Keith said confidently.

Lance frowned.  “Wait a tick. You think I’m interested in _Shiro_? He’s a _guy_ , Keith. I’m a _guy_. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not gay.”

“Of course you’re not gay,” Keith agreed, rolling his eyes at Lance’s stupidity. “You’re obviously bi.”

“ _What?_ Since when?” Lance yelped, looking panicked.

“How the hell should I know? Probably since you became a teenager, but maybe as a kid? I knew I was gay by the time I was five years old, the first time I got thrown into a wall for kissing someone,” Keith admitted, stunning himself by mentioning the old trauma so casually. It wasn’t the first time he’d broken an arm – that had been when one of his older foster brothers threw him down the stairs, when he was three, trying to kill him, so he wouldn’t have to share his bedroom with the new kid. He hadn’t died, but his foster brother had gotten his wish: his new foster parents couldn’t handle having a child so “clumsy” that he’d traumatize the other kids in the house, so they ditched Keith.

“What the hell? You just freaking growled at me! What are you, some kind of rabid- GURK!”

The world dissolved into a familiar red haze, and Keith opened his hands wide and threw himself backwards, trying to remember where he was, who he was with, what had been happening, because this didn’t feel like one of those “enemy” times, this felt like one of those “you’re fucking up and hurting someone” times.

To his horror he saw Lance was the one in front of him, he had his hand protectively at this throat, his Bayard in his other hand, and he was looking at him wild-eyed. “What the hell is _wrong_ with you? You tried to _kill_ me!” Lance accused, his voice sounding odd, like someone had been choking the life out of him. He sounded hurt and angry, not afraid, which would have been worse, but not by much.

“What did you do to me?” Keith demanded defensively, trying to remember. He needed to know what had triggered it this time, that insane battle lust that always lurked just below his skin; the berserker fury that took control of him when he was feeling threatened was _always_ triggered by something specific.

“I didn’t _touch_ you! You’re the one who tried to rip my arm off, remember? And then we were just talking! And the next thing I know, you grab me by the throat and slam me into the wall and you’re strangling me, and you don’t even feel me hitting you, trying to get you to let go when I couldn’t pull your hand away. I used both hands, all my strength, and I hit you and kicked you and… Jesus, Keith, it’s like you’re not even hum-“

 **“DON’T!”** Keith roared, balling all his control into his right arm, punching the wall instead of Lance, because he’d crush his skull if he hit him. He heard his knuckles break as he hit the metal corridor wall, the distinctive, familiar snap of bone as the metal reluctantly gave way, but he didn’t feel any pain, he _never_ felt it, until later.

 _“Keith!_ Holy… you just…” and then Lance was gone, he just ran, and Keith fell down onto his knees in relief, because he didn’t think he could have diverted another blow, if Lance had said one more wrong word to him.

0 0 0

Lance ran, looking over his shoulder more than once, both relieved and worried when he wasn’t chased. _What the hell **was** that? _

He headed for Shiro’s room, because Shiro might be able to calm Keith down, and if not, at least he was physically able to pin Keith. If Lance didn’t know better, he’d have sworn Keith was the one with the Galra tech arm. It was like he was hopped up on some kind of combat drug or something. _He actually dented the freaking **wall**! He broke his **hand**!_ He was lucky they had those cryo healing tubes, or he wouldn’t have been doing any flying for the next six weeks.

Lance knocked on Shiro’s door, but then went in without waiting for permission, because Pidge or Hunk or Allura or Coran might stumble across Keith, and why had he thought it was a good idea to leave him alone in that corridor for one of the others to find?

Shiro bolted out of the bed he’d been lying on, fully clothed, thank God, his eyes widening in alarm. “Where is he?” Shiro demanded, as if he somehow knew. Of course, Lance was probably pale as a ghost, he felt cold enough to be a corpse. _Shock. I’m probably in shock._

“I’ll show you,” Lance replied, knowing he could find him again but there was no way he could tell Shiro how to get there.

“What happened? Is he hurt?” Shiro prompted, as they ran.

Lance hesitated, not sure how much to reveal.

“Shit. Damn it. Did he hurt you?” Shiro demanded, though he didn’t stop running.

“He… um… sort of choked me a little,” Lance admitted, hating the sound that came from Shiro, like a whimper, an animal in pain. _An animal. Quiznak!_ Lance shivered as he belatedly realized it was his fault that Keith had attacked him. “Shit. It’s my fault. I’m so stupid! I… I made a couple of mad dog references and then… um… I started to say… I… that he wasn’t human,” Lance finished, hating himself for the way his mouth ran without a filter, the way he flung around insults. He didn’t really mean them, he never even remembered what he said, but _Keith_ remembered. He always remembered. Weeks later he’d repeat something, and there would be this _look,_ and…

It used to make him proud, that he could shatter Keith’s cool, get under his skins like that. “I… crap.  I made him break his hand. He was… I realize now he was trying not to hurt me, he punched the wall instead of me and… um… sort of dented it, and… I _heard_ it, the bones, when…. We need to get him into one of the pods,” Lance insisted.

Shiro shook his head. “I don’t think… No, it will work, but we’ll have to knock him out first.”

Lance looked at Shiro, horrified. “Are you nuts?”

Shiro stiffened and Lance cursed himself silently. _Fantastic. Call the guy with the serious psychological issues crazy._ “Sorry. I… um… just, he’s kind of hurt enough already.”

Shiro sighed. “He’s claustrophobic. A simulator, a Lion, they’re small, but he’s moving, in control, he’s fine. But something that confined, where he can’t move, he’s helpless… his first foster parent used to lock him in the closet whenever he … damn it. You can’t let him know I told you that. I just… I’m not thinking straight.” Shiro snorted self-deprecatingly. “Newsflash, right? We’re one hell of a pair.”

That was a kick to Lance’s gut. _A pair. A couple. I knew it._

They rounded the corner and Lance froze. “Quiznak! He was here. Here’s where I left him,” Lance said, feeling sick.

“You’re sure? A lot of these corridors look ali… Damn it,” Shiro said, seeing the dent.

“He… um… wouldn’t do anything stupid, would he? I mean, you know, stupider than breaking his hand punching the wall?” Lance asked worried.

“We need to find him,” Shiro replied grimly, making Lance’s heart trip hammer.


	8. A Warm Hearth

Hunk frowned in concern and headed to Keith, who was crouched on the floor, against the corridor wall. “Hey, man, what’s wrong? Why are you sitting on the floor?”

“Stay away from me!” Keith demanded, but he didn’t sound angry, he actually sounded kind of afraid, which was nuts, because he’d never hurt Keith. He’d never hurt anybody. Well, anyone who wasn’t Galran.

Hunk’s eyes widened as he realized Keith was cradling his right arm, that his hand looked wrong, bloody, and swollen, the fingers… “Oh man, you broke your knuckles, didn’t you?” he asked, instinctively looking at the wall for… yup. “You really are just like Walaka. You’ve been embraced by Tūtū Pele too.”

Keith frowned. “Who?”

“Tūtū Pele, the Goddess of Fire, Lightning, Wind and Volcanoes. She’s sort of an all purpose Goddess of creation and destruction, really powerful,” Hunk explained, as he knelt down beside Keith. He couldn’t believe how much Keith was like his older brother. It helped a lot, because he knew how to talk to Keith, without setting him off, how to get close, even when he was being all prickly, but it made him that much more homesick, too. He missed his family. He missed the Island.

“OK, I could maybe see fire being creative, like kilns for pottery, but how are volcanoes anything but destructive? They erupt explosively, and the lava kills anyone in its path, or worse, the hot ash flows, and pyroclastic debris. Even if sometimes you can outrun lava, you can’t even run from those,” Keith argued, too busy arguing to flinch away when Hunk gently took his arm and started studying his hand, even though Hunk knew Keith usually reacted violently to anyone touching him.

“Well yeah, but not all volcanoes are like that, not all lava’s like that. There are steep cinder cones, but then there are gently sloping shields too. And there’s aa and pahoehoe lava. Aa is sharp and spiky and can rip the soles right off your shoes, and I don’t even want to think about what it does to your feet, after that. I’ve heard some pretty sick stories from my grandmother. You know, ones that are supposed to be cautionary tales, but she gets so into the gory details she just ends up giving us nightmares for months. But anyway, then there’s pahoehoe, it’s all smooth and glassy and ropy when it cools and hardens. That’s my older brother Walaka and me: he’s aa and I’m pahoehoe. But anyway, Tūtū Pele built my home. Hawaii’s like Japan: a volcanic island chain.

“Yeah, at least a few of these knuckles are broken. Hey, but it could be worse, right? You should have seen what Walaka did to his hands and arms, growing up. There was the time he was eight, and his new bike was stolen. My parents had saved up for months, to buy it for his birthday. We had this screen door, but more glass than screen, you know?”

“Let me guess: he slammed it and the glass exploded,” Keith said with a rueful smirk that made it clear that he’d personally seen that little science experiment in action.

Hunk laughed. “No, that’s what a normal person would do. But Walaka, he slaps the window with both hands, as hard as he could. He ended up mangling both wrists pretty badly. The bike cost nothing compared to that hospital bill. It took nearly a year for my parents to pay it. But the scary part, you know other than all the blood and stuff, the hardest part, was convincing the hospital that day that my brother wasn’t suicidal, that he was just hotheaded and impulsive.

“My grandmother leapt to his defense, you should have seen how indignant she was. She said, ‘My grandson, he’s a hotheaded idiot, but he’s not so weak that he’d kill himself. Though _I_ might kill him, if he keeps causing so much trouble,’ she told them.” He shook his head as calmly tugged on Keith’s good arm, encouraging him to stand, and then nodded him down the corridor.

“She could get away with that, because she was older than the sky. She always says that, whenever we ask how old she is. ‘Older than the sky. Why do you think my beautiful hair is white, like the clouds?’” He smiled at the memory, and was surprised when Keith’s lips quirked too.

“I think I’d like her,” Keith said.

Hunk grinned proudly. “You’d love her. Everyone loves her. You know, when they’re not too busy being terrified of her. Picture Allura, but with sixty more years practice at being scary,” he said with a grin, and Keith actually laughed, which was what he’d been hoping would happen.

But then they reached the control room and Keith balked. “I’m _not_ getting into one of those tubes. Just wrap my hand up or put a cast on it or something,”

“Keith, you can’t just slap a Band-aid on this and do I look like a doctor to you? But you don’t need to get into a tube. You can use the portable unit. You just stick your arm in. It takes longer, but you can walk around with it on and it’s still pretty powerful,” Hunk said, gesturing towards what looked like a standard console, until he touched it, and a panel slid open, revealing the high tech guinea pig tunnel. At least, that’s what Hunk thought of it as, and the mice really seemed to like running through it, when he and Pidge had it out and were studying it.

“I can really leave? I don’t have to stay in here?” Keith asked, confirming Hunk’s hypothesis based upon some astute observation that Keith hated feeling confined, that he might even actually be claustrophobic or something too.

“I just need to snap it on you. It auto-starts, diagnoses you, and then sets the healing program for whatever injury it finds. Guess I could have been a doctor after all, as long as I was using Altaen tech. But I’d still rather be an engineer,” Hunk said contentedly. “They have so many cool gadgets for me and Pidge to play with.”

“That’s really all there is to it?” Keith asked skeptically.

“Scout’s honor. Not that I ever was a Boy Scout, because those uniforms cost money, and the Scouts didn’t used to allow gays in, and my best friend Iakepa was gay, so that just wasn’t cool.” He flicked on the portable healing unit, which hummed contentedly, eager to be useful after 10,000 years of slumber. Not that it really thought or felt, at least, he didn’t think it could, but he kind of thought all machines had souls, personalities. Because yeah, sometimes coaxing a car verbally got it to drive further than it should on a charge, and twisting your body in the seat really could make you fit into a tighter parking spot, or thread the needle between two rock spires, or skim over a coral reef when you really should have bottomed out and ripped your hull to pieces.

Keith exhaled heavily, like he was releasing a boatload of tension though his mouth. “Thanks. When I realized what I’d done…” Keith frowned, obviously upset about more than just the broken bones.

“You can try talking to me about it, if you want. I’m a good listener,” Hunk volunteered. “I have four brothers, two sisters and sixteen… no seventeen – well eighteen, but she’s still a baby, so I don’t really think that counts – anyway, a bunch of cousins worth of practice. Walaka, his name means ‘Ruler of the People,’ but my grandmother, she used to say, ‘Ha! How can he rule the people when he can’t even rule his own temper?’ Not that he wanted to become a governor or anything, though he would have made one hell of a warrior chief.

“It’s in our DNA, you know? All that aggression that everyone frowns on and scolds us for now, back then, that’s what kept you safe, what protected your village, your tribe, your family. You can’t just turn that off like a light switch. You can dial it down, but you can’t really be surprised when every now and then it flares out of control, kind of like a wildfire.

“Team sports, the violent ones, like soccer, rugby, hockey, those are supposed to be a civilized way to release all that aggression. But from what I’ve seen, it’s just an excuse for a bunch of jerks to beat each other senseless. Not like you. You’re doing something constructive with your aggression, your anger. But you can’t always channel it into your piloting, your fighting, when you’re here, in the Castle, and you can’t spend your entire life training with the bots, either, though you’ve been trying. You should cut yourself some slack, Keith, before you really hurt yourself,” Hunk counseled seriously.

Keith looked like he wanted to say something, but he stayed silent.

“What? Come on, you can ask me anything,” Hunk encouraged. “I promise to keep quiet long enough to let you get a word in edgewise.”

Keith stiffened, like he was bracing himself. “Your brother, Walaka? Is he… OK? Did he ever learn to control his anger, or did it burn him alive?”

Hunk grinned. “He channeled it. He didn’t have the patience to finish school, so he started his own biomech firm instead, got crowd-funded for his first patent, a wheelchair with robotic arms that ties directly into the nervous system of quadriplegics, so they can have their independence back, or be self-sufficient to a point at least, even if they were born physically challenged. He likes to say, ‘I enable the disabled.’ And it’s pretty cool that in addition to helping a bunch of people worldwide we didn’t know before, he’s paid off my parent’s mortgage and repaid them for every doctor’s bill he ever cost them.

“Fire’s a tricky thing: it can scorch and burn, it can eat away everything good in your life, but it can also warm and comfort and protect. That’s the kind of fire you are, Keith, the good kind. You may spark and spit into the room a bit, embers may scorch little burn marks onto the carpet through that grate you keep up so solid, but nothing beats the warmth of a good fire to drive away the cold and the dark.”

“You really see me like that?” Keith asked, sounding surprised.

“Well, yeah. Of course. Everyone sees you that way,” Hunk assured him truthfully.

“Even Lance?” Keith asked, looking like he didn’t believe it.

“Especially Lance,” Hunk said with conviction.


	9. Words of Wisdom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Voltron: Legendary Defender characters are under copyright or license by Toei Animation, World Events Productions, Netflix, Dreamworks Animation, Studio Mir and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain. This work is simultaneously being posted on Fanfiction.net.
> 
> A/N:  
> If you like my Voltron, D Gray-Man, and Unlimited Psychic Squad stories, you might also like my published original high fantasy series, Descent of Kings, which includes strong male and female, multi-ethnic, bisexual and gay characters, and is available on Amazon and through the publisher, Dreamspinner. It’s a tale of lost kingdoms, and valiant and desperate heroes in a medieval world populated by humans, Elves, Dwarves, Ogres and mythical beasts, battling a god-like insane necromancer and his army of the dead.

 

Lance was relieved when he saw Pidge, as she waved them off a corridor away from the Control Room. Not that he thought Keith would actually hurt Pidge, but it was still a relief. Because Keith had dented the freaking metal wall and broken his hand and acted like he hadn’t even felt it.

“I can see by your faces that you’re looking for Keith, but it’s alright guys. Hunk’s managed to calm him down and has applied one of the portable healing units to his hand. Crisis contained,” Pidge stated softly, after hurrying over to intercept them. “Not that you shouldn’t talk to him too, because I think Keith especially needs to see you, Lance, because Hunk told him you understand him.”

“Hunk said that?” Lance asked, surprised.

“Yeah, he basically said we all know Keith’s a good guy, that he’s got some anger management issues, but he does his best to channel his aggressions constructively, and that we all like and respect him for that, including you,” Pidge explained.

“ _Hunk_ said that?” Lance repeated skeptically.

Pidge grinned in that kind of evil way she had which always made him nervous. “Well no, actually there was a lot about goddesses and volcanoes and lava and fire, but explaining all that would take too long, so I gave you the Cliff Notes version.”

Lance scowled, but then realized she hadn’t actually said, “dumbed it down for you,” so he guessed he couldn’t be indignant about it.

“Go ahead. I need to talk to Pidge,” Shiro urged.

Lance put his hand to his throat, but then realized what he was doing and jerked it away. _Keith doesn’t scare me._ He swallowed and then winced, because it kind of hurt, because Keith had been _strangling_ him.

“Lance, wait,” Shiro said, putting his left hand on his shoulder, and squeezing gently, reassuringly. “If you’re not ready to see him, or don’t know what to say, that’s fine. I’ll talk to Keith.”

“Am I interrupting something?” Keith asked acidly. “It sounds like you two have something you want to tell me?”

Lance turned to face Keith guiltily, wondering how much he’d overheard. “Quiznak,” Lance cursed, when he saw Keith’s laser eyed glare at Shiro’s hand, which was still on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Shiro asked, genuinely perplexed, as he removed his hand, far too late, because Lance had forgotten to mention the part where that idiot Keith thought he had some kind of stupid crush on Shiro.

Then suddenly Hunk was between them. “Whoa, Keith. Don’t go all Krakatoa. How about you talk to them later, OK, after we get something to eat? Because you shouldn’t be sparring or flying right now, but I think you need a break.”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve broken something. I can fight one handed. I’ve done it before, lots of times,” Keith replied, spinning around and heading down the corridor, apparently heading for the Training Room. “And don’t follow me!” he ordered.

Hunk sighed heavily. “Nuts. What just happened? He was fine, until he saw you three. Wait. Did he get into a fight or something with one of you before? Is _that_ how he broke his hand?”

Lance ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “ _He_ was the one fighting. Partly because he’s got some crazy idea that I’m into guys. He actually insisted I was bi. Can you believe that?” Lance scoffed, hoping they would laugh, because he needed them to agree that he wasn’t bi, that he didn’t like guys, not that way.

Keith was just his rival, right? Nothing more. Because it was really obvious Keith still had a major thing for Shiro, even if Shiro was interested in Allura now instead, and who could blame Shiro? Because Allura was beautiful and graceful, poised and dignified, refined and elegant, all the things a Princess should be.

Keith was nothing like that. He was confidence and strength, speed and skill personified, not just when flying, which yeah, was pretty amazing, but fighting too. Lance could have watched Keith fight for hours, if Keith would let him, because God knew, Keith could _fight_ for hours on end. It was amazing, how he moved, so perfectly fluid, the way his body could bend and twist, the speed and grace in those deceptively strong yet lean muscles in his arms, his leg, his back. His fingers were so long, his hands as fine-boned as a girl’s, but so incredibly strong. _He dented a freaking metal wall! Seriously, where does he get all that power and skill from? He’s amazing._

Pidge snorted, patting the same shoulder Shiro had squeezed, snapping him out of his reverie and shaking her head. “Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, Lance.”

“For the last time, I _don’t_ have a crush on Shiro!” Lance insisted, his face flushing with heat, because he’d just been freaking daydreaming about Keith, and somehow having a crush on Shiro wouldn’t be so bad, because _everyone_ liked Shiro.

“Wait, what? _Me?_ ” Shiro asked incredulously, sounding completely blindsided, his face darkening in a blush too.

Pidge laughed, like Lance had just told the funniest joke ever.

Hunk just stared. “I don’t believe it. I didn’t think it could be more perfect, but you’re both completely and utterly clueless,” he pronounced, as if it was some great revelation. “OK, I’m done here. I’m seriously starving. Who wants to get some food?”

“I’ll pass. Pidge, walk with me?” Shiro asked, looking more than a little self-conscious.

Pidge frowned, all levity vanished. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yeah. Lance and Keith aren’t the only ones who need to clear the air,” Shiro assured her.

Pidge nodded.

“I’ll go with you, Hunk. I’m starving too,” Lance lied, because if he didn’t go with Hunk, he’d do something really stupid, like follow Keith to the Training Room.

Fortunately, Hunk didn’t try to dissuade him. Lance was surprised when they entered the Commissary that Hunk headed for some big piece of equipment he’d never noticed before, instead of right to the food goo hose, and he peered around him curiously as he opened it. His eyes widened. “It’s food. Real food. I thought we ate it all,” he said in wonder.

“What, are you kidding? Even _I_ can’t eat this much, that fast,” Hunk said happily. “So I asked Coran if they had a refrigerator, or some other piece of tech to keep things cold, and he showed me this row of cooling units in the hangar, which are used to store some of their more delicate tech, and I figured they could spare one of them, so yeah, I snagged it. Instant refrigerator.” As he talked he pulled out sealed container after container of food. 

“Do we have any more of the blue one? I really liked the blue one,” Lance said eagerly.

“Sorry. That one was Keith’s favorite, so I gave it to him, when he was sitting in with Shiro, because I was worried he wasn’t going to eat at all, that he’d be so busy worrying that Shiro was eating that he’d forget to, or just feel like he was taking food from Shiro if he did.”

“Aw, Hunk! Why’d you have to waste the good stuff on Keith? That guy’ll eat anything, no matter how awful it tastes. Remember in the Mess Hall back at the Base, the way he’d scarf down his food like a stray do…?” Lance trailed off, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Like a starving, stray dog, the kind of pathetic but terrifying animal where you could see every rib, one that growled when you got too close and stood possessively over some picked clean bones it dragged out of the trash, as if it was a sirloin steak.

He’d done it again, automatically compared Keith to a ravenous animal. But the worst part was, it wasn’t intentional. He hadn’t even thought when he’d said it. He was really glad Keith hadn’t been there to hear, because he probably would have broken his other hand, or maybe Lance’s neck, and he kind of would have deserved it.

“Yeah, Lance. Like someone would take it away, if he didn’t eat it fast enough. Like no matter how much they gave him, it was never enough. I don’t know anything about where he came from, before the Academy, what his life was like, but I don’t think he had too much to eat as a kid,” Hunk accused sadly.

“I’m glad to see you’re finally starting to at least hear yourself, to sensor yourself. Because Keith doesn’t deserve that, to hear crap like that from anyone, least of all, you, not when…” Hunk didn’t finish, he just shook his head, then took a deep breath.

“Look, I know you don’t get it, but Keith cares what you think, Lance. He might pretend he doesn’t, because you don’t ever want to let someone know they have the power to hurt you, especially not someone you think enjoys hurting you. But he cares. He cares what all of us think about him, but he cares most about you and Shiro.”

At the mention of Shiro, Lance lost the rest of his appetite. Because he knew Keith cared most about Shiro. _The only reason Keith cares what I think is because he’s just as competitive as I am, because he wants me to respect him, to take him seriously as a rival._

“Actually, I’m not really that hungry, and Blue just called me. He wanted to practice this dive and loop thing we’ve been doing and… So I’ll catch you later, big guy,” Lance lied lamely, just needing to go, to fly, because Blue didn’t think he was a screw up, an insensitive idiot, some jerk who couldn’t keep his foot out of his mouth if he tried. Blue made him feel special, like he was the coolest pilot, the coolest person, in the world.

There was an approving purr of agreement, of satisfaction in his head, and this time, he could have sworn he heard words too, only two, but they were more than enough: _You are._ They gave him that same, wonderful feeling he hadn’t felt since the last time his mother had hugged him _._

At least Blue and his mom and abuela and his brother, his whole extended family, loved him. _I can’t be that terrible a person if my Lion and so many amazing people love me, right?_


	10. Red vs. Blue: Death of a Paladin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your comments on earlier chapters whichlights, Loveyourfic, Random, gengars and Janna (Ianna). I can’t wait to hear what you and others think of this chapter!

Shiro and Lance. _Shiro_ and _Lance_. He was right, what he’d thought before, what he’d seen. Keith had lost them both, to each other. He was alone again, the one no one wanted, the one everyone was afraid of, like some pathetic stray you make a half-hearted effort to help, throw him some food, just enough so he starts to get dependent on you, starts to hope, to dream there might be something more to life than just fighting to survive it, but then you reach out to pet him too suddenly, too fast, and he’s afraid you’re trying to hit him, and you lash out and you growl or bark and bite, and they look all wounded, and back off, and leave, they just leave, and never come back, no matter how much you lie there whining or howling at the moon, and you know you screwed it up, that you blew your one chance, your only chance, your last chance to be loved.

Keith fought desperately to cling to his anger, because this, the dark depression, the hopelessness, was soul crushing. He wouldn’t be able to come back from that place, not again, not after finally scrabbling his way out of that alley. Because of Shiro. Shiro had saved him by giving him someone to save, to protect.

Shiro had first broken through to him in the arcade, on those simulators, he’d made that connection, given him a reason to wake up in a world that had left him alone and hungry and desperate his entire life. He’d been in survival mode since he was an infant, but Shiro had taught him there was more, that there could actually be pride too, knowing you were better than someone, until you weren’t, and you had to fight for it. Shiro had given him something to strive for, to surpass, to exceed. Until the day Keith couldn’t.

 _He_ _couldn’t beat those damned scores, no matter how he’d tried, how much money he spent. All of it. He’d spent his last quarter, forty whole dollars, his food money for the entire month, he’d wasted it, because he still hadn’t beaten three of the ten scores, he wasn’t fast enough, skilled enough. He had to beat those scores, because someday he was going to catch Shiro playing, he was going to meet him, and then… He didn’t know. Maybe he’d finally have a friend? But Shiro wasn’t going to come back, if he didn’t beat him. He’d lose interest, if Keith was no longer a challenge. **Shiro wasn’t going to come back.**_

The thought of Shiro never coming back sent Keith’s heart hammering, in terror and loss, it started to trigger that terrifying and primal survival instinct that had always been his curse, the bane of his existence. He could feel the red haze starting to close in, to overwhelm him, but this time, he fought it with everything he had. He wasn’t in danger, not here, not now, he didn’t need it, he didn’t want it, damn it! It made him break things and hurt people without even knowing it, until they hurt him back enough for him to feel pain again, or knocked him out, or enough time passed for him to see what he’d done. He dreaded the day that he’d wake up surrounded not by broken things, but by broken people. He’d had nightmares about it, ever since meeting Shiro.

He’d been so selfish, accepting Shiro’s friendship, enrolling in the Academy. He knew he was dangerous, unstable, but when he finally was determined enough to cut Shiro free, for his own safety, Shiro had refused to be pushed away. Keith had growled and snarled and finally bitten the hand that had fed him, that had tried to pet him, but this time, the person had stayed.

_Shiro had massaged his jaw, moved it from side to side to ensure it wasn’t broken, but instead of fighting back, or running as far and fast as he could from him, like any sane person would have, like everyone else had, he’d just smiled. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Buddy. I’m not going anywhere.” Then he’d looked him right in the eye, gently but firmly clapped his hand onto his shoulder, and squeezed it. “I promise you’ll never be alone again, Keith.”_

He’d sealed his promise with that touch, and every shoulder squeeze since, even the one on the night only a few weeks after he graduated from the Academy, the night he broke his promise.

_“I got it. I’m the pilot on the Kerberos mission. It’s what I’ve always wanted, what I’ve dreamed of, worked for, strived for. I can’t turn it down, Keith. You’re safe and fed, here, even happy. You don’t need to smile like everyone else for me to see it. I know you. I see it anyway. I know it might seem like I’ll be gone forever, but it’s less than six months, there and back. I’ll be back soon.”_

Shiro had made that new promise, the night he’d broken his initial one. And less than three, long, torturous months later, he’d broken that one too.

_“Repeating our top story of the evening, the Kerberos mission has officially been declared lost, with all hands. The official verdict of the Board of Inquiry is that pilot error, not equipment failure, was the cause of this terrible tragedy.”_

_“I know it might seem like I’ll be gone forever.”_

Gone. Forever. No more encouraging smiles. No more strong, warm, reassuring hands on his shoulder. Nothing. No one. Emptiness. Loneliness. Grief. Loss. Forever. Alone. Forever. Alone forever alone forever alone forever.

Keith faintly heard Red’s tremendous roar as he felt the all too familiar red haze descend, as for some unfathomable reason, helpless grief transformed into unreasoning rage. His whole world became sharp, vivid, clear, but bathed in the color of blood, as the familiar berserker fury tore through him, consuming him.

He began to run, full tilt, the need to get outside, away, overpowering. He raced past the Training Room. He couldn’t use a weapon, right now. If he drew his Bayard now… A horrific image flashed before his mind’s eye, the one he’d seen before in his nightmares, after every major battle they’d fought: him standing over his butchered teammates, blood splattered everywhere, his Bayard dripping red, his team’s lifeless, terrified, accusing eyes staring up at him. Lance’s dead blue eyes, his blue and white armor stained red.

There was a second roar in his head, this one not of fury, but of heart-stopping grief, of inestimable, inconsolable loss. It doused the battle rage like ice water, as if he’d just been thrown into a glacial lake.

“Red? What’s…? No. Wait. _Blue?_ Blue, what’s wrong?” Keith demanded out loud, in sudden realization, that it wasn’t his own Lion who was roaring this time, it was Lance’s Blue.

His eyes widened and heart hammered. “Lance? Did something happen to Lance?” he demanded, looking back the way he’d come, half expecting to see and hear another explosion, to find Lance burnt and bruised and lifeless looking again, only this time, beyond the healing pod’s ability to cure.

Red and Blue both roared, and this time, he couldn’t only hear it in his mind. The sound reverberated through the Castle, even as it shook, and alarms started to shrill.

“We’re under attack!” Keith yelled in certainty, not heading for the Control Room, which was too far, but directly for the hangar. _I need to get to Red now!_

0 0 0

“Allura, what’s happening?” Shiro demanded, as he ran into the Control Room.

“I don’t know! There’s nothing on the sensors, no perimeter alarms were triggered, but somehow an intruder must have gotten into the hangar! Both Red and Blue have gone mad! They’re attacking one another! They’ve blasted their hangar doors, and they’ve done so much damage, I can’t get them open now, to free them. If this keeps up, they’ll tear the Castle apart!” she exclaimed, as her hands flew desperately over the controls.

“I’m opening the other doors, so the rest of the Lion’s can get free. Shiro, Black needs to order them all to scatter. If it’s a virus, something trying to get them to destroy one another, we can’t let them near one another,” she commanded desperately.

“Black, you heard… Keith did _what_?” Shiro demanded incredulously, shaking his head in horrified denial and disbelief at the vivid image that flooded his mind, of Keith standing over Lance, blood everywhere.

“No. He can’t have. Allura, Coran, we need to find Lance, now! Black told me Blue thinks…” _He couldn’t have._ K _eith couldn’t have killed Lance. He wouldn’t lose control that badly, no matter how enraged. Would he?_ Shiro hated that he even questioned it, that he seriously considered it, but…

Coran’s hands flew over the internal security monitor system. “There, Lance is there! He’s in the corridor just outside the hangar,” Coran pointed.

Shiro clung to the image like a lifeline. “I knew it couldn’t be true! Black, Lance is fine! He’s there, he’s running for the hangar, in the corridor just outside, only a dozen meters from them. You have to get them to stop fighting or Red and Blue are going to be the ones to kill him!” Shiro warned.

0 0 0

Lance turned the corner and nearly barreled head on into Keith, who was also heading at a dead run for the hangar. “What the hell’s happening?” he demanded, as they raced side by side.

“No idea. Red’s not exactly rational, at the moment,” Keith claimed.

“Yeah, Blue’s just… screaming,” Lance agreed, gritting his teeth against the wild flood of thoughts and emotions that weren’t his own, as they entered the hangar. He had only a moment to register molten metal and ice, and Red and Blue tearing at one another like rabid wolverines, and then his head exploded in a cascade of images: blood and explosions, Galrans dying, their ships exploding, cities burning, entire planets pulverized to dust. But bizarrely, those horrific images were intercut with wonderful ones, of the Red and Blue Lions flying, running, playing, deep throaty purrs vibrating and buzzing, their two pilots just as joyous, all four of them at play.

_They landed, still laughing, disembarking from their Lions onto a plain of purple grass beneath the double sun, Vespa small and bright and yellow, and her lover Donara, large and red, but far more distant, in his eternal chase of her across the cosmos. Nethla dove onto him, tackling him to the ground and pinning him there with his slender yet powerful body._

_Varic allowed Nethlas’s seeking fingers to unlock his helmet, even as he unfastened Nethla’s, still laughing joyously, Blue’s exuberance from their flight still coursing through his blood. Pieces of armor were stripped away by eager, impatient hands and strewn about the field of illicit kutha, the heady and forbidden scent only adding to his arousal. He should have known Nethla had a special destination in mind when he’d initiated the challenge. Then their lips met, and all thoughts of their flight, even of Blue, were submerged in his need._

_At least a krone must have passed, they were both sweaty and spent from their exhausting lovemaking, curled into one another’s arms, when Blue’s low rumble registered. Varic sighed. Nethla had fallen asleep in his arms, his flawless skin glowing golden in Vespa’s light. His husband made love with the same limitless passion and enthusiasm and joy with which he did everything else._

_Varic wished they could stay like this forever, but they had a duty not only to their King and homeworld, but to the universe, to be ever vigilant in their protection of their blissful peace and prosperity. The thought that anything might ever mar the tranquility they enjoyed was almost inconceivable, yet still, it was their duty to ensure the safety of their Kingdom._

Lance was stunned, spellbound, and shamefacedly aroused by the intimate moment he’d voyeuristically watched between the two men: kissing, touching, loving, hugging, holding. They were beautiful together, in a way Lance had never imagined men together could be, gasping, sweating, thrusting, moaning, with such incredible tenderness, passion, but also playfulness. Lovemaking – they weren’t simply fucking, they were making love – sharing their bodies, hearts, minds and souls. And they weren’t alone.

The Lions were there too, Red and Blue, their minds and hearts linked to the two men. Lance had never seen either of the men before, but he knew exactly who they were: the Red and Blue Paladins, Nethla and Varic, the original Paladins, the ones he and Keith had replaced, but could never truly replace, though he was certain Blue loved him already.

But Red and Keith… it was different for them. Red was nothing like he had once been. All the playfulness and joy had been burnt away, or at least buried so deep it seldom emerged. Their bond was different as well. Instead of absolute trust and loyalty and love, there was wary distance: neither Keith nor Red trusted one another fully.

And pain, so much pain. Red and Blue couldn’t bear more loss, not like that. Because they were dead, the Red and Blue Paladins were both dead. Varic had died in Nethla’s arms, while Blue had stood there helplessly, for all his might, powerless to save him. Then Nethla, driven mindless with his grief, his guilt and hatred and need for revenge, had been killed all too easily in Red’s cockpit soon after.

_“Why? It was my fault, my mistake. He was aiming for me! Why did you get in the way? Why did you protect me?” Nethla begged in anguish._

_“You didn’t…. believe he’d… do it. That he’d… turn against us… so completely. You… love too much… trust too deeply. Couldn’t… let you… die. Love you,” Varic whispered with his final breath._

Lance fell to his knees, trapped in the past, oblivious to the chaotic battle being waged around him, sobbing helplessly, shattered by his Lion’s grief.

 _“We had a bonding moment. I cradled you in my arms.”_ Keith’s words from after he’d been dying mixed with the images of Nethla and Varic from 10 millennia ago had paralyzed him.

_Varic couldn’t breathe, he was dying in Nethla’s arms, no longer able to feel his husband’s hot tears splashing against his cheek, as he fought valiantly to lift his hand, to touch his beloved face, to speak again, but he couldn’t move, he couldn’t talk, he couldn’t feel. He couldn’t even breathe._

“No! No, no, no! Lance! Come on! Breathe, you stupid asshole!” The voice was distant, muffled, but furious, desperate, terrified.

_Lance? Lance. What an odd name, but familiar somehow._

_“You,”_ an incredibly deep, powerful voice urged with astonishing gentleness and determination.

_Black? Me? No. I’m Var…No. Not Varic. Varic is… was…_

“LANCE!”

_Nethla?_

The roar was deafening, pain and anguish and frustration, and somehow desperation and apology and need.

_Red? How…?_

**“LANCE!”**

_Hot. Wet. Tears._

He could feel the tears again. Even as he realized it he gasped, an intake of breath, followed by shooting pain as he coughed and gasped some more. His chest was on fire, but his lips were warm and wet and his eyes flew open and…

_What the **hell**? Why is Keith **kissing** me? And crying. Keith is actually **crying**!_

Keith jerked back, looking as stunned as Lance felt and Lance tried to sit up but cried out and fell back down, because it felt like someone had dropped an anvil on his chest and cracked half his ribs. It hurt to breathe and … “Quiznak! What…?” Lance croaked. Because the Lions were all roaring, not just Red and Blue, but all five, and the hangars were a smoking and steaming mess, half the adjoining walls ripped away, a jumble of cooling slag steaming in a lake of water and melting ice, and Yellow was actually laying across a thrashing Red, pinning him to the floor, and Black and Green were pinning a struggling Blue.

“You’re breathing. You’re alive,” Keith whispered, looking completely floored by the idea.

And suddenly, Keith kissing him and his chest being on fire and the coughing made sense. “CPR? You were… Quiznak. What happened?”

“He’s alive! Tell them he’s alive!” Shiro yelled, the relief in his voice palpable, even as Black’s roar echoed across the cavernous hangar, and Blue and Red immediately quieted and turned their heads to face them.

“Uh. Yeah. Hey guys,” Lance said self consciously, hissing as he failed to sit up again, wrapping his arm around his ribs. Leave it to Keith to break half his ribs trying to save his life.

 _Holy… Keith saved my life. He actually..._ “Uh, thanks,” Lance said, not sure what to say. Because, you know, the whole almost dying thing. “So… um… yeah, alive. But…?” Lance asked.

Shiro ran over and leaned over him. “Lie still. We need to get you into a healing pod, to be safe. There might be some cardiac damage. Your heart stopped. Allura told us it was a resonance loop. The two of you and your Lions apparently all got caught up in it somehow. Black told me it happens sometimes, it’s extremely rare, but when the Lions or their Paladins are under a lot of strain, and a current situation mirrors a past one too closely, the Lions can get stuck, confused, trapped in a memory, sort of like a flashback. And… well, they fought and lost a War, so… there are some pretty intense memories.”

_Yeah. Varic and Nethla. The Blue and Red Paladins. Husbands. They were **husbands** , and they both **died** , and their Lions, they… I’m so sorry, Blue. _

There was more a throaty growl than the familiar buzz of a purr, but there was such warmth and desperate affection in the sound, it made Lance wish he could hold his Lion on his lap and stroke Blue like a housecat.

And unexpectedly, there was the familiar buzz of a purr he’d ached to hear, relief and love flooding him.

“Are you alright?” Keith asked, his voice hesitant, almost timid sounding, and shaky, completely unlike how he should be.

 _“No I’m not alright! You broke my ribs, you idiot!”_ the old Lance wanted to indignantly yell.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Um, thanks again. For, you know, the…” He pointed to his mouth as he felt his face flush with heat.

“Yeah. Just… don’t do that again. Almost dying,” Keith ordered, wiping the tear tracks from his face.

“OK. Sure. Next time you can be the one to almost die,” Lance joked with a smirk that quickly changed to a frown, because the thought of that actually happening made it hard to breathe again. He wiped away the mix of both his own tears and Keith’s from his face.

“No one’s dying. Not on my watch,” Shiro reprimanded firmly. “Coran will be here with a hover gurney soon. Just lay still until then,” Shiro insisted, his eyes flicking to Lance’s chest and back to his face.

 _Ah. Shiro apparently knows about my ribs. I don’t think Keith’s realizes._ And Lance didn’t want him to.

“He’s going to be alright, isn’t he?” Keith demanded, sounding like a scared child, not a Paladin of Voltron.

“He’s going to be fine,” Shiro assured him.


	11. Something More

 

Keith was numb, now that the terror had drained away. He still didn’t know what had happened. One minute, they’d been running side by side into the hangar, and the next Lance had abruptly stopped, like he’d switched off, somehow, his face went blank, and he’d just stood there, while Red and Blue tried to kill each other. When Keith tried to talk to Red and Blue, all he got was wave after wave of pain from Blue and agony mixed with rage from Red.

Then Lance had fallen to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably, and then he’d collapsed completely, he’d pitched forward onto the deck  and Keith had dived forward and barely caught Lance in time to keep his face from hitting the metal deckplate. When he’d turned Lance over and checked his pulse automatically, to make sure he was OK, he couldn’t find it. He’d tried again and again, certain he was just missing it somehow, that Lance was fine, but it wasn’t there, and he wasn’t moving, he was just staring vacantly, and then Keith had put his head to Lance’s chest and… nothing. His heart wasn’t beating, he wasn’t breathing, and…

Then the CPR class from back at the Academy kicked in. He tore the portable healing unit off his hand and flung it away, and started chest compressions. Keith didn’t even realize what he was doing at first, and when he did, he almost stopped, because Lance was dying, or already dead, and…

Blue roared, and Keith quickly calmed him, apologizing. Because that was what had started this whole mess, somehow, it was him thinking about killing the others, killing Lance, the Bayard, the blood, and… _Stop thinking about it, you idiot! You can’t set Blue and Red off like that again. They’ll kill each other._

Pain started to register in his broken hand, a welcome distraction, and he was used to pain. But then alarmingly, he felt tingling and numbness too. Which meant he might have nerve damage, now too. _Can the healing units fix that? They must be able to, right? They healed Lance when he’d been-. Stop thinking about that!_

“Keith? How’s your hand?” Shiro asked, frowning in concern.

“I think I really messed it up,” Keith admitted, too worried to lie, surprising both Shiro and himself with the admission. Shiro had probably expected him to say, “It’s fine,” like he always did, when he was hurt, because if you were too much trouble, they got rid of you, they always got rid of you, and then you went back to the orphanage, where the other kids were all so much bigger and stronger, not usually quicker or as vicious, but it didn’t matter, because they worked in packs, like wolves, to take down tough prey.

“We need to get both you and Lance to the healing pods,” Shiro stated firmly.

Keith immediately balked at the thought of being locked into one of the coffin sized pods. “No! It’s feeling better now. It was just pins and needles, but it’s…” he trailed off at Shiro’s disapproving glare. He’d forgotten how good Shiro was at catching him when he was lying.

“You can’t fly if your reflexes are impaired,” Shiro prodded gently, the one argument that that might actually work.

His heart started to pound, a feeling of being trapped overwhelming him, almost as bad as if he were already locked away, as he started hyperventilating and backing away from Shiro, ready to run. “Can’t,” he mouthed breathlessly.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro said almost grimly.

The words baffled Keith, until he sensed someone or something behind him. He spun, but there was a sharp pain in his neck, as he hit something hard a moment too late, and everything vanished.

0 0 0

“Wow. I can’t believe I actually got him,” Katie said, retrieving her robobeetle and checking it in concern for damage, because Keith’s reflexes were surreal, almost superhuman, and he’d whacked it hard. Shiro had, of course, caught Keith, so he didn’t hit the deck after she knocked him out.

Hunk shook his head, clearly both impressed and appalled. “I would _not_ want to be you, when he wakes up.”

“Yeah, well, there are plenty more of these guys where this one came from, or will be soon, so he’d better just cut his losses, since it was for his own good anyway,” Katie replied, relieved the little guy wasn’t damaged too badly. It might not be a real insect, but she’d given it a tough carapace. Keith had managed to dent it in spite of that, though. It must have hit the wall harder than she thought. She’d have to give make sure the insides weren’t correspondingly damaged. “Besides, Shiro told me Keith wouldn’t be able to use a healing pod otherwise,” she said with a distracted shrug.

“So he really is claustrophobic,” Hunk said, as if he’d suspected as much. “Man, what a mess. It’s a good thing I’ve been working on repairing the self-repair function of the Castle. Which is kind of confusing, if you think about it too much. But the Lions really did a lot of damage to the hangars. Speaking of which, I’m going to go and spend some quality time with Yellow and watch the Castle do its thing. I’ll see you guys later,” Hunk said with a wave, and headed back towards the hangar.

When Katie turned back to Lance and Shiro, she saw Lance was unusually silent, and seemed mesmerized just watching Keith breathe.

“Lance? Are you OK?” Shiro asked in concern.

Lance started, as if he’d been a million miles away. “Yeah. I mean, I think so. Except for…” He waved his hand at his heart.

“It’s a good thing we were all taught CPR, and Keith remembered his training, since none of the rest of us could get close enough to you to help. It looks like Keith was your knight in shining armor, Lance,” Katie teased with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood, because she could tell Shiro was really upset.

“Stop it! Just knock it off with all those cracks! Keith’s not my knight, or my Paladin, or my… he’s not my anything!” Lance yelled, sounding completely freaked out.

“Whoa. Overreacting much? Calm down, it was just a little joke,” Katie frowned.

“Yeah, well it’s not funny,” Lance snapped.

“I think all of you should cease commenting about Lance’s and Keith’s relationship with one another. It’s detrimental to the team and upsetting to the Lions,” Princess Perfect scolded ridiculously, across the comm system. _As if the Lions care that Lance is gay for Keith_. _Whatever._

“Let’s get you and Keith to the healing pods, Lance. And then Pidge, I’d like you to join me for that walk that got interrupted,” Shiro urged.

Normally Katie would have loved a chance to have Shiro all to herself, but she was looking forward to this talk about as much as she’d looked forward to cutting her hair, knowing it would take years to grow back to the length it was. Not that it wasn’t worth it. She’d have cut off an arm, if it meant a chance to find out what had really happened to her father and brother, if it meant she might have a chance of finding them, rescuing them.

“Sure,” Katie agreed, hiding her reluctance. “You take care of those guys, and I’ll take care of this guy,” she added, patting the robobeetle affectionately, and heading for her workshop. RB was no Rover, but he was still pretty cool. One of the prototypes in what would soon be a new army of helper bots. Because five robots against a universe spanning empire weren’t really great odds, no matter how powerful the Lions were.

Green roared disapprovingly in her head.

 _Yes, Green, I already said you were cool,_ she soothed mentally. _So, Green, any idea what that was all about, what got Red and Blue’s panties in a twist like that? What did Lance do?_

 _Lance was not to blame,_ Green argued.

 _Whoa, seriously? You mean Keith is the one who screwed up this time?_ Katie asked in surprise.

_No. It was not truly his fault, either. Or Red’s, or Blue’s._

Katie swallowed hard. _You mean it’s my fault? I upset Shiro, which upset Black, and Keith, and then Black and Red started fighting because of it. I guess Red was still worked up, so he went after Blue. Crud. I really screwed up, didn’t I?_

_It is not your fault either, PidgeKatieHolt. It is Zarkon’s fault. Everything that has happened to us, that will happen to us, and to you, is on his head._

_Hey. That’s kind of dark for you, Green. I’m sorry. I won’t talk about it anymore. I don’t want to upset you too. I’ve done more than enough damage for one day._

_You give yourself too much credit when it is not due, and too little when it is. Go, fix RB. You are happiest when you are working with what you excel in. Although you excel in far more than you believe._

Green’s closing words were accompanied by a deep, throaty purr that reminded her poignantly of her dad’s hugs, and his words had reminded her of one of her last conversations with Matt, before he flew off on the mission to Kerberos.

“Right. Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to work I go,” she quipped, as she headed for her workshop, before thoughts of her father and brother could drown her.

0 0 0

“So, Lance, do you want to tell me what happened?” Shiro asked, as he carried Keith to the healing pod.

“Nope. Sorry. No can do. Allura’s orders,” Lance replied airily. Because there was no way he was going to try explaining, when everything was still so raw, because thinking about Nethla and Varic made _him_ want to cry, and would upset Blue all over again.

 “If my ribs weren’t broken, I could totally carry Keith. I mean, he probably doesn’t weigh much, right?” Lance asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

“He actually weighs a lot more than you’d think. He’s lean, but he’s pretty much all muscle, and he’s got really dense bones,” Shiro argued.

“Tch. That’s a tactful way of saying he’s got a thick skull,” Lance replied immediately, always ready with his razor sharp wit to take Keith down a peg, even when he wasn’t conscious to hear it.

Shiro sighed in frustration. “You need to lighten up on him, Lance. We talked about this. You say things like that without thinking, constantly, you just keep chipping and chipping away at him and… Just don’t, alright? He doesn’t deserve your insults. He didn’t just save your life, Lance. He was crying over you dying. The entire time I’ve known Keith, he has never cried once, over anyone, over anything, no matter how much pain he’s been in, physical or emotional. For him to cry over you… I don’t think you realize what an incredible gift that is.”

“Yeah, we’ll you don’t need to get all jealous about it. I’m not the one he was really crying over,” Lance mumbled, because he was sure that Keith had probably been dragged just as deeply into Red’s head as he’d been pulled into Blue’s. _Those were Nethla’s tears for Varic, not Keith’s for me._  

“What do you mean?” Shiro asked, sounding more annoyed than frustrated, now.

_Great. Tick off the guy with the deadly robot arm._

“Nothing. It’s personal,” Lance insisted.

“Not if it’s about Keith it isn’t,” Shiro argued.

And that made the ugly, green eyed monster called jealousy reach out with a roar and take a chunk out of him.

“Why don’t you two just get married already so you stop confusing me and Pidge? I mean, Allura’s technically the captain of the Castle, right, so she could totally preside. Besides, I think Keith would look stunning in a dress,” Lance snarked, as Shiro set Keith down on the floor because Coran wasn’t there yet, and they weren’t knowledgeable enough to operate the pods on their own, so he must have been pretty heavy after all.

But then Shiro wheeled on him, and Lance realized it was just because he’d wanted his hands free, so he could kill him. Lance swallowed and took a step back, because he was sure he’d seen documentaries of grizzly bears defending their cubs that didn’t look half as scary as Shiro looked right now. Lance could literally feel the blood draining from his face in fear.

“Not. One. More. Word,” Shiro snapped succinctly, standing perfectly still, as if he moved even a little he’d rip him apart.

Lance nodded mutely, to indicate he understood, because ‘I’m sorry’ was two more words, which was two too many, or dozens not enough.

Thankfully, Coran breezed in at that moment. “Alright, all set for a little hibernation time?” he asked, clapping his hands together cheerfully, as if Lance was the bear in the room.

“Lance first,” Shiro insisted, his voice still sounding disturbingly controlled.

Though that was way better than the alternative, it still kind of freaked Lance out, because he knew Shiro was more worried about Keith right now, even though Lance was the one who’d almost died. But Lance obediently got into the tube that rose up out of the floor. He’d apologize to Shiro later, once Shiro had had time to cool off, and once his ribs were healed, so he could run for his life, if he screwed his apology up, or insulted Keith again, which was all too likely.

0 0 0

Shiro exhaled heavily in relief as the pod closed and Lance was frozen. He’d been a hair’s breadth from completely losing his temper, and Lance had already had one heart attack today. The last thing he needed was to cause another one, although from how pale Lance had gotten, he was pretty sure he’d managed to nearly terrify him enough to give him one.

Shrio turned and lifted Keith into the pod. “I’m sorry, buddy. But you really need to heal, and I don’t think you could have done that without this.” After pushing him back into the pod, he brushed the hair from Keith’s face, a gesture he didn’t have to feel guilty for, because Lance wasn’t watching, waiting to comment on it. Reluctantly he backed up and closed the pod, and turned away.

He sighed heavily in frustration, hanging his head. He’d failed both Paladins today. As Black’s Paladin, he should have been able to get Black to stop Red and Blue from fighting.

_I tried. You were not at fault, nor was I. Sometimes it is our hearts, not our heads, that determine our actions, Shiro._

His Lion’s words made the corner of his mouth lift in the tiniest of smiles, because sometimes he forgot he wasn’t alone to deal with all this madness – Black was always with him – and his words kept him from spiraling back down into that black pit of despair he’d already spent far too much time in. “I’m going to go talk to Pidge. Keep an eye on them for me, would you?” Shiro asked Coran.

“Of course! Although there’s really nothing to worry about. They’ll both be right as _runaria_ ,” Coran assured him.

“Thanks, Coran,” Shiro said tiredly, as he headed for Katie’s workshop. As expected, he found her working diligently to repair her robobeetle prototype.

“Why do you guys have to be so rough with RB?” Katie griped.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Shiro soothed. “When you come to a good stopping place, we can have that talk you wanted to have. I know something’s been bothering you for a while now.”

0 0 0

Katie froze. Now that she and Shiro were finally alone together, she didn’t know what to say. She knew what she _wanted_ to say, but so much had just happened – Keith had been hurt, and Lance, and she’d seen how protective Shiro was of both of them, so how could he possibly even pay attention to her stupid little girl crush?

“You know, never mind. It’s stupid. I’m stupid. It doesn’t matter. I’ve got a robobeetle army I need to spawn, and you need to stare guiltily at Keith and Lance in their pods and brood for a few days, so why don’t we each just do our own thing?” Katie jabbed, hating herself for it the moment the words came out of her mouth.

_“Really Katie-girl? Dad’s wrong, you know. You’re not a porcupine at all, cute and shy and harmless looking, but deceptively all prickly and pokey. You’re a scorpion, small and fast and deadly, darting in and jabbing with your stinger for the kill,” Matt chided._

_“Bite me. Dad’s never wrong about anything. He’s brilliant. You of all people should know that. You’re brilliant too. Like father like son, right? Sure as shit beats being ‘daddy’s little girl’,” Katie admitted bitterly, her frustration stripping away the protective layer of snark. Because she needed Matt to feel bad, to get all protective and big brotherly, instead of being competitive, like they usually were, because in a one on one competition with Matt, she’d always lose. He was older, smarter, better at everything._

_The last thing she expected was for Matt to actually laugh in her face. She couldn’t believe how much it hurt, like someone had stabbed her in the heart. She wanted to tear into him for it, but to her horror, she felt her eyes well with tears. She was appalled. She never cried. Tears were Mom’s weapon of last resort, not hers, because Mom was only average smart, not genius level, and being stuck in a house of two geniuses and one wise ass got overwhelming sometimes, even if you loved them, and Mom’s tears were the only thing that made them all stop and notice and listen, when gentle reasoning failed._

_She’d turned and run, but Matt had tackled her to the ground from behind before she could get too far, like they were play wrestling the way they used to before Matt had accidentally grabbed her breast their last tussle, and it had freaked them both out so much that they never wrestled again. He’d managed to end up facing her this time, too, because she’d twisted to try to get away, but thankfully, this time he’d successfully pinned her shoulders._

_“Katie, I wasn’t laughing at you! I was laughing at what you said, because it was so incredibly dumb, and you aren’t. You’re brilliant! You can fix anything that’s broken. You can figure out what a piece of tech is supposed to do that you’ve never even seen before. You can take a handful of spare parts and build something new, create something amazing. I can’t do that. Dad can’t do that. Mom definitely can’t, and from what she told me, when I asked her about it, it’s not a Gunderson family talent we never heard about. That genius you have, that’s uniquely Katerina Anna Holt.”_

_She stared up at him, stunned. He’d called her a genius, and he’d meant it. All that time, she’d thought she didn’t measure up, and Matt was telling her she was setting her own bar. “OK. You win. I’m brilliant. But you can’t deny you’re the best brother ever. Although if I was a boy, I’d totally be better than you,” she’d teased with a grin._

_If I was a boy… and now I am one. Sort of. But I’m not better than Matt. No one could ever be a better brother._ She hated that she felt those same stupid useless girlie tears coming now, and looked up at Shiro, hating that he was there to see it.

 _Shit!_ Shiro wasn’t seeing anything, at least nothing here, nothing now, nothing real, and his hand was glowing.

“Shiro! Don’t think about it! Whatever it is, just stop it!” She wanted to shake him, but she was afraid to touch him, because he’d just react to her, thinking it was an attack, and jab his hand through her, the way he did to the Galran bots and soldiers.

Miraculously, her voice brought him back. She saw despair and guilt immediately flood his face when he realized he’d been having a flashback again.

“Don’t you dare apologize for that! That was 100% my fault, and I was having a flashback too, I was just as lost in the past as you were, except ultimately, what I saw helped, it made me feel better about myself, and you only see dark things. Which is nuts, you know? Because you’re amazing, Shiro.

“You survived for a whole year, and from what those aliens we freed told us, you didn’t just protect Matt, you protected the rest of them, by being their Champion, the one everyone wanted to beat, so they didn’t fight the others as much. You’ve saved lives, Shiro, their lives, our lives, Dad and Matt’s lives.

“Even if… even if when we come…  Anything that happens after that is the Galran’s fault, Zarkon’s fault, not yours. I’m not going to blame you or hate you for it. Mom won’t either. She’ll be happy you lived, that you made it, that you tried harder than anyone else could have. So please, please stop blaming yourself,” Katie urged.

Shiro was staring at her as if she’d lost her mind, but Katie belatedly realized it wasn’t because of what she’d said, it was because of what she’d done. Her eyes widened too, as she realized that while she was talking, she’d taken his hand, in both of hers, she was squeezing it firmly. Only it wasn’t his flesh and blood human hand. It was the Galran prosthetic. And it was still glowing, though as they both stared, the glow dimmed, and then vanished.

“Wow. I didn’t know you could touch something with it like that without ripping it apart,” she stated in surprise.

“I didn’t either,” Shiro whispered, the horror in his voice chilling.

“Oh. Well then. I guess it’s a good thing you can,” she said, pointedly not letting go, even though the thought that she could have just lost both her hands was terrifying, because she doubted the healing pods could heal something that just wasn’t there anymore, and without her fingers she couldn’t tinker.

“I didn’t do it on purpose. I mean, intentionally hold this particular hand. Because I always want to hold your hand. And touch you.” Katie winced, she could feel the blush heating her face, because that was as blunt as a brick to the face and she was obviously the last person Shiro wanted to touch. He wanted Allura, or Keith, or even Lance, because the way he was with them.

“Were you and Keith lovers? I don’t mean now, obviously. I mean before you left earth,” she blurted out, as if she were Lance, born without a filter.

But instead of Shiro getting flustered or pulling away, he put his left hand against her right. “No, Katie, we weren’t. I think in the beginning, Keith wanted to be, but he didn’t need a lover, he needed a friend. A deeper relationship could have been disastrous for him, because when something inevitably went wrong, he’d have no one to talk it over with about it but me, because back then, he didn’t have any other friends.”

“Then why were your clothes in his house?” Katie asked bluntly, because what Shiro was saying made perfect sense, but didn’t explain that little fact.

His eyes widened in surprise and then got a guarded look.

“I can’t tell you why. What I just told you wasn’t betraying Keith, but saying anything more would be. You can speculate whatever you want, believe whatever you want, or you can believe the truth. Keith and I aren’t lovers. In other circumstances, we likely would have been, if not then, then now, because he’s amazing, and he has the rest of you as friends he can talk to, especially Hunk, apparently, which I have to admit, surprised me, though it shouldn’t have,” Shiro stated levelly, looking her in the eyes.

“So why not now? Because of Allura?” It was really weird asking him that, while they were still holding hands, but she didn’t want to let go, because she was actually holding Shiro’s hands, and that was probably the closest she’d ever get to realizing her dream, her stupid, unattainable infatuation.

Shiro smiled gently and shook his head slightly. “No. I see her more as a sister, and she definitely sees me as an older brother. Not a father figure, because no one could hold a candle to her father, or ever replace him in any way.”

“Lance? The way you held him and protected him… I know you’re team leader, and Spa… um… you know, but he’s a good looking guy and not nearly the idiot he acts like, and if you ever tell him I ever said anything nice about him, I’ll put a swarm of mini-robobeetles in your bed while you’re sleeping,” Katie threatened, blushing again, because Shiro, in bed – Gah! She could actually feel her brain melting the longer she talked to him. This hadn’t been a good idea at all.

She tried to pull her hands away, but he didn’t let her go it easily, and she wasn’t about to be forceful about it, because she didn’t really want to let go.

“Lance is just a teammate and friend,” Shiro replied.

“And what am I?” Katie asked, and wanted to bite her tongue for saying something so needy sounding.

“You’re a teammate and friend too, Katie,” Shiro replied gently.

 She’d known he was going to say that, but something inside her shriveled up and died anyway, and she could feel her eyes welling with those stupid tears again. She refused to cry in front of Shiro, and give him something more to feel guilty about, so she tried to yank her hands away, but Shiro wouldn’t let her go.

“And not that being that isn’t incredibly special, because it is, but I want you to be more,” Shiro added unexpectedly, and then he pulled her in by the hands with his right hand, and wrapped his left around her waist.

_He’s hugging me. With one arm, but he’s hugging me and… Why is he using one arm? Is he afraid of crushing me with his prosthetic? No, because he’s holding my hands, and if he was worried about that, he’d be more worried about crushing my hands, because wrecking someone’s hand, that’s gotta be one of his worst nightmares, right?_

“Sorry. I thought…” Shiro said hesitantly, releasing her, his face darkening in a blush that was completely adorable, this big buff guy blushing, only he’d stopped hugging her.

“Why aren’t you hugging me anymore?” Katie asked in frustration, because she had to know, and her brain wasn’t firing on all synapses right now.

“You were completely rigid, really tense, so I figured I misunderstood what you wanted?” Shiro said, inflecting it like a question, showing how she’d managed to completely confuse him.

  _Man, this relationship stuff is hard. No wonder Lance is always yelling at Keith. Love really does turn you into complete idiots_. “No, for the record, I really liked it that you were hugging me. I just was overthinking it, because genius level techno nerd. At least, that’s what Matt always… Crap. Crud. I didn’t mean to say his name,” Katie apologized immediately, because the second she said it, that bleak look reappeared on Shiro’s face.

“I should be the one apologizing to you. I tried Katie. I honestly did everything I could. I hated escaping without him, but I had no idea where they were keeping him, and I had so little time, and I was trying to warn earth, but also, to get help for them, and-“

Katie jumped up, wrapping both her arms around his neck, pulling his face down to her, with the intent of kissing him, because she’d heard that was the best way to shut someone up when they were being really down on themselves. That was the plan, anyway. The reality was she tugged too hard and fast, and his chin crashed into her cheek, and she overbalanced him, when he tried to yank back, and they ended up in a graceless heap on the floor, Shiro’s face somehow pressed into her chest, stupidly making her wish she wasn’t wearing her binder.  She was thankful Lance was in a healing pod, because the only thing that could have made this more embarrassing was a heckling audience.

“Well now! I don’t know about Terran’s, but Altaeans prefer to do things like that with at least a modicum of privacy, not out in the corridors, where young, impressionable Princesses spying with security monitors can see things they really shouldn’t,” Coran scolded, although Katie wasn’t sure if she was scolding them, or Allura, for apparently watching and listening, considering how loudly and succinctly he said it.

“I wasn’t spying! I was monitoring!” Allura claimed defensively over the corridor speaker.

Which really pissed Katie off, because she’d though they were alone and… She stared wide-eyed as Shiro ran for the wall, leapt, and took out the camera and a decent sized chunk of the wall with a single swipe of his glowing, prosthetic hand. Then he spun on Coran, who backed up into a fighting stance that didn’t look nearly as comical as the one he’d used on Lance when they first met.

“Tell your spoiled little princess that if she spies on me again, she’ll earn a royal spanking, and not the kind she might enjoy,” Shiro said in a voice that had Katie glad it wasn’t her Shiro was angered with. She knew Shiro could be deadly, but until that moment, hadn’t realized he could _sound_ deadly.

“Forgive me. I’ve told her many times that she shouldn’t, but… well, in some regards, she feels like she’s on the outside, looking in, and there are still so many things about Terran customs she doesn’t understand. That, and she led a pretty sheltered life, before Zarkon… before the War. And… sadly, she’s had very valid reasons to not trust anyone but me and her father,” Coran explained. “But I’ll have a talk with her. So the two of you can carry on. Although I really would suggest a one of the bedrooms, for privacy, because there aren’t cameras there.”

“Your room or mine?” Katie said quickly, before Shiro could pull away. “Because I’m not going to let you go off and sulk somewhere, or convince yourself you’re dangerous because of what you just did, or some other idiotic thing, because if my cheek is bruised tomorrow, or I end up with a black eye or something, that’s exactly what you’re going to do, if I don’t talk you out of it ahead of time,” Katie insisted.

 Shiro looked at her sheepishly, which was a relief, because he’d actually looked kind of scary before.

“Neither. Let’s talk outside,” Shiro suggested. “It wouldn’t hurt to look around while we’re out there, too, just to make sure nothing is trying to sneak up on us. The last thing we need today is another battle.”

Katie couldn’t help but crack a grin. “OK. Sure. Let’s go ‘patrol the perimeter’.” Inside she was fist pumping. _Yes! You go, girl! Boy. Whatever._


	12. The King's Prerogative

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [arminhasthebestbooty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arminhasthebestbooty/pseuds/arminhasthebestbooty) (read their Voltron story [Catalyst](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7447699) ) for breaking through my writer’s block by pulling me back into Voltron with dozens of AMVs.
> 
> Also, shout out to [Keeping Up With The Alteans](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7698790/chapters/17541718) by [trollfishprince](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trollfishprince/pseuds/trollfishprince) . I never would have shipped Coran with Alfor if it hadn’t been for you, Troll. I’m eager to read your next chapter, once school and your new job allow.

Coran frowned in puzzlement at the readings of the Red Paladin’s healing pod, after Shiro had left him alone with the two injured Paladins. “What on Altaea? This can’t be right. These readings are totally off. As different from Lance’s before and now as night and day. Could the pod be malfunctioning?” He anxiously ran a quick system scan on Keith’s pod, but it seemed to be operating perfectly.

“But these readings simply can’t be correct. Keith’s a human, from Earth. They all are. Unless… Oh my stars! Could he be a spy for Zarkon? Is that why he didn’t want to enter the pod? Because he knew we’d discover him? But that still wouldn’t explain these readings. Why would someone who’s part Altaean work for that traitor? Although our Altaean chameleon ability _would_ explain why he appears human, when he doesn’t appear to have any human genetic material at all.”

Coran stared at the damning numbers. _Genetic  distribution: 50% Altaean, 50% Galran._ Coran looked from Keith’s pod to Lance’s. _100% Terran Human._ The last time, it had read _100% Unknown_ , and had automatically run a physiology scan to ascertain how best to treat the alien lifeform, and Coran had typed in what the system should call the new species.

He stared at the indicator panel. The healing time on Keith’s pod was drastically reduced from what it would have been, had it been Lance, considering the multiple breaks, and the soft tissue damage in his hand, to nerves, muscles, tendons, and ligaments.

“Right. Well then.” Coran was thankful Shiro had left. He was certain Allura would be watching the monitors showing him, and not this room. The first thing Coran did was change the indicator on Keith’s pod to give a false reading of 100% Terran Human. As soon as he was done, he disabled the room’s security camera, and then destroyed the recording from the time Lance’s pod was activated, before Keith’s was, to make it look like some sort of system short caused by Lance’s pod activating. He’d keep the camera disabled for as long as Keith was in his pod, and then erase the record from the pod itself, once he left it. Because no matter who Keith’s parents were, Allura couldn’t know that Keith was half Altaean and half Galran. She’d never trust him again, never trust any of them, and she’d only just begun to.

But what he needed to do now was to compare Keith’s genetic make-up to that of known Altaeans and Galrans, the records of which fortunately resided in the Castle. In particular, he needed to know if Keith was any relation to either Allura or Zarkon. Zarkon had sworn an oath as the Black Paladin to defend Altaea with his life, but had instead betrayed them all. He’d blamed King Alfor for Queen Asura’s death, attempted to assassinate him on multiple occasions, and ultimately murdered his fellow Paladins, and declared war not only on Altaea, but on her entire empire, and everything beyond. On the entire universe. If Keith was capable of the same treachery…  Coran wasn’t about to let history repeat itself.

The search went far more quickly than Coran had any reason to expect it might. He was relieved to discover Keith did not share any ancestry with Allura, nor thankfully, and somewhat surprisingly, with Zarkon. But after that, it was only natural to compare his genetic material to the records of the other Paladins.

Coran had compared him to Nethla first, of course, since he was the Red Lion’s Paladin, again with negative results. He tested against the Green and Yellow Paladins, and then finally, reluctantly, against Varic, the Blue Paladin, suspicion and anxiety rising in his gut. Because Varic had died childless, which meant, if Keith was related to the remaining members of Varic’s family, it was likely he was as much a traitor as Varic’s entire clan had been, after the Blue Paladin’s tragic death, on a par with Zarkon for their level of betrayal.

Sadly, when he tested Keith against Varic, the readings were unmistakable. There was a clear match. Since Altaean natural lifespans were a thousand years, extrapolating backwards ten generations, ten thousand years, Keith was directly related to one of Varic’s ten brothers and sisters or 62 cousins, aunts or uncles. It was impossible to narrow it more than that. Varic’s family had been large and powerful, with a noble lineage and a proud history, but to a man, woman and child, they’d blamed Alfor, not Zarkon, his actual murderer, for Varic’s death, and turned their significant power and influence against the court, against Alfor. They and their families had turned traitor to their King, their people, when they had needed them most.

“Quiznak. I don’t know what to do. If I reveal Keith, Allura will want him imprisoned and interrogated, but Shiro is so protective of him... As if we could learn anything from him, if he’s half Galran. No torture in the universe can get them to speak. We know. We’ve tried countless times. No matter what actions I take, it will destroy Voltron, but it’s already destroyed, by Keith’s very existence. We need to replace him, to find a new pilot for Red. I have to talk to Alfor. He’ll know the best way to handle this. He’s the consummate diplomat and military tactician, not me.”

Coran had been avoiding doing so, until now, he’d purposefully not spent any more time with Alfor than he had to, because it wasn’t truly him, it was only his memories, what they’d saved of his brilliant, beautiful mind, a construct, a simulation, not someone he could hold and touch, laugh with and love. He’d had no idea, when he’d helped Alfor lure his daughter to the chamber with the healing pods, that she wasn’t the only one being tricked and ambushed that long ago day.

He had thought that last, longing look of love and sorrow he’d seen on Alfor’s face after he’d tucked his unconscious daughter securely in her pod was because they were about to go down fighting together. He’d had no idea it would instead be their final moment together, that his last kiss was a betrayal, that Alfor was saving him, along with Allura, until he’d seen a gentle glow of light just before darkness descended.

Coran took a bracing breath, and headed out of the room at a brisk clip. His personal feelings were irrelevant. He needed Alfor’s wisdom, his guidance. The fate of the universe depended upon it.

He heard the sounds of talking in the corridor up ahead. When he rounded the corner, he was shocked to see Shiro on top of Pidge on the floor, in a rather torrid embrace, the two of them flushed and flustered, Shiro’s face pressed into her chest.

 “Well now! I don’t know about Terran’s, but Altaeans prefer to do things like that with at least a modicum of privacy, not out in the corridors, where young, impressionable Princesses spying with security monitors can see things they really shouldn’t,” Coran scolded, chastising his young charge more than the two Paladins, certain Allura was glued to the monitor, watching and listening

“I wasn’t spying! I was monitoring!” Allura claimed defensively over the corridor speaker.

Coran winced at the tactless confirmation, but then his eyes widened in shock as Shiro unexpectedly ran for the wall, leapt, and demolished not only the camera, but a large chunk of the metal wall with a single swipe of his glowing, prosthetic hand. Then he spun on Coran, who backed cautiously into a fighting stance. He didn’t want to fight the Black Paladin, but he couldn’t allow himself to be injured either. He couldn’t protect Allura unless he remained in top fighting form.

“Tell your spoiled little princess that if she spies on me again, she’ll earn a royal spanking, and not the kind she might enjoy,” Shiro said in a scathing voice that made a chill run down Coran’s spine.

“Forgive me,” he apologized, sincerely and contritely. “I’ve told her many times that she shouldn’t, but… well, in some regards, she feels like she’s on the outside, looking in, and there are still so many things about Terran customs she doesn’t understand. That, and she led a pretty sheltered life, before Zarkon… before the War. And… sadly, she’s had very valid reasons to not trust anyone but me and her father,” Coran explained. Zarkon had been like an uncle to her, when she was a little girl, all the Paladins had been, but he’d been her favorite, he’d doted on her, because she looked so much like her mother. But then, almost overnight, he’d tried to murder Alfor, and then turned into a murderous monster: he’d attacked Nethla and Varic, slaying Varic, who’d died protecting Nethla, and shortly thereafter killed Nethla anyway.

Coran dragged himself from the dark memories of the first two Paladin’s deaths with difficultly. “But I’ll have a talk with her. So the two of you can carry on. Although I really would suggest a one of the bedrooms, for privacy, because there aren’t cameras there.”

“Your room or mine?” Pidge offered, thankfully drawing Shiro’s attention away from Coran. “Because I’m not going to let you go off and sulk somewhere, or convince yourself you’re dangerous because of what you just did, or some other idiotic thing, because if my cheek is bruised tomorrow, or I end up with a black eye or something, that’s exactly what you’re going to do, if I don’t talk you out of it ahead of time.”

 Shiro looked at the Green Paladin sheepishly, which was a relief, because he’d actually been quite terrifying for a short while.

“Neither. Let’s talk outside,” Shiro suggested. “It wouldn’t hurt to look around while we’re out there, too, just to make sure nothing is trying to sneak up on us. The last thing we need today is another battle.”

 “OK. Sure. Let’s go patrol the perimeter,” Pidge agreed happily.

Coran breathed a sigh of relief, as the two Paladins left. Then he sighed again, this time in reluctance and disappointment. Speaking with King Alfor would have to wait. Allura would need him. That look of fury on Shiro’s face, as he lunged for the camera, would have been most upsetting to Allura. He knew she hadn’t meant to anger Shiro, and that now she’d be feeling defensive and resentful, because she would have been both frightened and humiliated by his attack on the monitor. Although hopefully this incident would keep her from discovering Coran’s little act of sabotage and subterfuge, regarding the healing pods.

He headed for the Auxiliary Control Room.

Allura looked up when he entered, looking just as defensive as he expected her to.

“It’s my Castle. I have every right to monitor the corridors. We’ve been surprised by Galra once before,” Allura defended, in anticipation of his scolding.

“Yes, but the Black and Green Paladins aren’t Galran infiltrators now, are they?” he asked, hiding a wince, because sadly, the Red Paladin apparently was.

He frowned. _But if so, why hasn’t he acted? He’s had ample opportunity to betray us, to destroy us. Yet he’s fought the Galra at every turn. And today, he saved the Blue Paladin’s life. None of us could reach Lance, he was quite literally dead, for a time, yet he brought him back. Why?_

“Please don’t scowl at me like that, Coran. I don’t think I’ve seen you this disappointed in me since I was eleven and snuck out of the Castle to see the Dulcinian dance troupe perform,” Allura said, sounding as contrite and ashamed as she’d been that day, when she belatedly realized she’d had the entire city, the entire planet, in an uproar.

He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. How could he give her a lecture on trusting the Paladins, when one was so obviously not worthy of their trust? Except, somehow he was. “There is nothing wrong with being cautious, with trying to protect yourself, and me, and the Castle,” he began.

For a moment, she looked vindicated.

“However, we both know you were simply spying on Shiro out of curiosity, or perhaps voyeurism. At least, I hope that’s all it was. You don’t have feelings for Shiro, do you Allura? Not that he isn’t worthy of you if you did. But he’s been hurt, terribly, he’s damaged, and dangerous, and frankly, I don’t believe the two of you would be good for one another. He not only needs someone who isn’t weak enough to need his protection, but someone who isn’t too proud to accept it, when it is offered anyway. You’re far from weak – physically, you’re far stronger than any Terran – but you are quite prideful. If anything, one of these days you’ll likely be the one to rescue him, possibly even sacrificing yourself to save him, though the thought keeps me awake at night. I think young Pidge is exactly who he needs.”

Allura’s face flushed, and she opened her mouth to argue.

He readied himself for a scathing retort, but then she closed her moth and sighed.

“I know that. That’s one of the reasons I haven’t pursued him, though I have many. I don’t have time for such things. I can’t afford to weaken myself by caring too much about any of them, because one or more of them is certain to die. I’m the future of Altaea. If and when I marry, it will likely be a political alliance, or at least, one to strengthen the bloodline. The list is endless, Coran. But I just… for a few moments, I just wanted to forget all that, to imagine what it would be like, to be able to care that deeply, to love that freely. But enough of such nonsense. How are our two injured Paladins doing?” she asked, flicking a switch as she spoke to look at the monitor feed. She frowned in concern. “There seems to be a problem with the monitor over the healing pods.”

Only years at court kept Coran from wincing in guilt at his duplicity.

“Oh, is there? Well, you needn’t worry. They’re both fine, or soon will be. The healing pods are working perfectly,” he assured her. Coran knew she was leery of the pods, not only for having been trapped in one for 10,000 years, but for her mother having died because of them.

“Alright. Well, let’s repair that camera, and the one Shiro destroyed then, shall we? The Castle’s repair system is being taxed quite enough by repairing the damage to the hangars,” she commanded.

Coran smiled. One of the things he’d always loved about Allura was that she never let her frustrations tie her hands, that instead, they pushed her to excel at every turn. And she never hesitated to get her hands dirty, or to work harder than everyone around her.

“We’ll have them up and running in no time!” he agreed, though he’d need to make certain the one in the room with the healing pods didn’t give Allura any reason to question Keith’s identity.

0 0 0

 Coran was relieved when he was finally able to leave Allura and head to see King Alfor’s holographic memory algorithm, though he entered the room reluctantly.

“Coran!” Alfor greeted warmly, the moment he entered the room, the AI function activated by his presence. He knew that’s all it was, but he couldn’t help feeling he was talking to Alfor’s ghost, especially when it looked at him in such warm concern. “What’s wrong, old friend?”

Coran winced in pain, though he was the one who had instructed the program to address him that way. It had hurt too much, hearing this computer with Alfor’s voice call him “beloved.”

With a heavy sigh, Coran told Alfor’s program everything that had happened, from Shiro’s recent actions to Keith’s, to the Lions fighting one another, the resonance loop, the Red Paladin saving the Blue, and finally what he’d discovered about the Red Paladin, and what he’d done, how he’d hidden it from Allura, but his fears that the Red Paladin would betray them the way the Black Paladin had, the way the Blue Paladin’s entire family had.

The last thing he expected was the guilty frown on Alfor’s face. “Forgive me, old friend, for causing you such worry. I would have told you eons ago, had I lived. I am thankful you did not take precipitous action, and do something tragic, that you did not kill an innocent man for blood that is not truly tainted, at least, not the Altaean side, and I cannot believe that the Galran side might be as ominous as it appears, either, considering that man’s ancestry. It does not matter that 10,000 years has passed, it would not matter if 10 million did. Varic was always my most loyal and trusted Paladin, and his family always my staunchest supporters and dearest allies. What I asked of Anric, Cedric, Tanric, Vrace, Drace, Thace and the others, what they risked for me, sacrificed for me, only proves it.”

Coran frowned. Had Alfor’s memories started to degrade? Was the program containing them malfunctioning somehow? “I don’t understand. They betrayed you, Majesty. Varic’s entire family turned against you, against Altaea. House Marmora sided with that traitor,” Coran argued, more worry than heat in his words, though the very thought made him furious.

“No, old friend. House Marmora did as I commanded of them, they willingly sacrificed their reputation, abandoned their lands, their people, on my order, to infiltrate the lair of the enemy, to spy upon him, to work against him, from the inside, and if worse came to worst, to carry on the blood of Altaea, to provide a small beacon of light, of hope, in a universe that was on the brink of being plunged into an eternity of darkness,” Alfor stated solemnly. “I alone knew the truth, and I carried it with me to the grave, but thankfully, because of my foresight and your assistance with this program that has kept my memory alive, beyond it.”

Coran’s eyes widened at the implications. “House Marmora never betrayed us? They were working for you? But… What happened to them? Why didn’t they stop him? It’s been 10,000 years! He’s conquered most of the known universe! How could they let that happen?” Coran demanded, furiously.

Alfor sighed. “There is no telling how many of them survived. Whether any of them did. Except clearly, at least one must have. The Red Paladin is proof of that. If we are fortunate, he and perhaps others of his line are yet working within Zarkon’s war machine, against him. Perhaps saving people a few at a time, or a city at a time, perhaps even a planet at a time. We have no way of knowing. Somehow Keith Kogane was born. How he ended up on Earth, how the Blue Lion did, is something we have yet to discover.”

“You kept it from me. You doubted even me, my loyalty,” Coran stated, the hurt in his voice pathetic to his own ears.

“Never, beloved!” Alfor denied, reaching out an ethereal hand to caress his face, his ghostly image wincing when Coran drew back from the touch he craved but would never feel again.

Coran would have doubted the veracity of Alfor’s words, except there was that forbidden endearment, Alfor’s program having overwritten his edit in its vehemence to be believed.

“Then why lie to me, along with the others?” Coran challenged, hating how much his words sounded like begging, hands fisted, shaking.

Alfor sighed. “Because even though you were always a loyal and efficient soldier, your heart has always been so gentle. You would never have approved of such a cold, ruthless plan, of condemning an entire family, every man, woman and child to such a dangerous mission. You would have dissuaded me from acting, when I could not afford to be dissuaded. I did it for the same reason I tricked you with my final kiss, so I could lock you away in a pod, as well as Allura. It is because I love you beyond reason, and I would do anything to protect you. Knowing I could not, that my death would hurt you terribly, has haunted me. I am the ghost that haunts this Castle, but my love of you haunts my very heart.”

“I can never forgive you for this, for any of it,” Coran accused. “For not seeing what a danger the Black Paladin was to Asura, how obsessed he’d become with her. For allowing him to escape, after the first time he tried to kill you. For Varic’s death. For sacrificing his entire family. For Nethla’s death. For causing Allura so much pain. For being so damned noble, for being a King, more than a father, more than a lover. For dying, after ensuring we would live on without you. I hate you for that. I love you for that. You stupid, self assured, wonderful, noble, brilliant, gentle, beautiful…” Coran could no longer speak, past the lump in his throat, no longer see past the tears streaming from his eyes, running down his face. He would have given anything to feel Alfor’s hand wipe the tears from his cheeks.

He cleared his throat, four times, wiping his hands furiously across his own face. Alfor was looking at him silently, guiltily, mournfully, the pain in his eyes cutting sharper than any blade. And then Alfor spoke.

 “Even if you hate me for all eternity, I would like to see you again. I don’t deserve to, I know, but… it has been 10,000 years, but I was asleep as you were. To me, it was also only yesterday. I have my memories of you, of Asura, of Allura, but to see you and her, to hear you both. I can no longer touch or smell you, or feel the wind and the sun, smell the flowers, but still… It is selfish of me to ask, but will you come visit me again?”

“Of course, Majesty. If you ask it of me, I cannot disobey,” Coran agreed, every word a spear through his heart. It wasn’t Alfor, but it sounded like him, thought like him, acted like him. Part of the role of a king was to be a master manipulator, and Alfor had always been a magnificent king.

A terrible look flashed across Alfor’s face, one he’d only seen once before, just as his vision faded, before he was frozen into oblivion, one of inconsolable grief and loss. “No. Instead, I command you to never again enter this chamber, without Allura and an express purpose. You are to not think about me, or pine for me, or spend another tick of your life trapped in the past with your love of me. I am dead, Coran, but you are not. Try to remember that. I can bear your hate or your love, whichever you choose to grace me with, but I cannot harm you more than I already have. Now go, and don’t look back. And make sure Allura does not spend too much time in here with me. She has a life of her own, a purpose, companions. Be strong for one another.”

Coran stood frozen, for a moment that stretched beyond eternity. Then he nodded, and found his voice, though it was a hollow whisper. “Yes, your Majesty.” Then he turned, and obeyed his King’s final command, and left the chamber, without looking back.


	13. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Voltron: Legendary Defender characters are under copyright or license by Toei Animation, World Events Productions, Netflix, Dreamworks Animation, Studio Mir and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain. This work is simultaneously being posted on Fanfiction.net.  
>    
> A/N:  
> It’s hard to believe it’s been close to nine months since I last posted to this story, but here at long last is the final chapter. All I can say is life got in the way. Thanks so much for your patience! I have a sequel to this story partially written, but I’ll be finishing up my other posted unfinished work before posting anything new, so it will be a while before it sees the light of day.

 

Shiro turned  to Katie, who had followed him outside, away from the prying monitors and the watchful eyes of the Princess. “Were you afraid of me? When I destroyed the camera?” Shiro asked, sounding uncertain.

“No!” Katie stated, a little too quickly. Then her face flushed. “OK, yes. A little. But that was just a visceral reaction. I know you wouldn’t ever hurt me. You’re a protector, Shiro, not a killer, no matter what you might have been forced to do, to be, as a prisoner. No one is holding any of that against you, least of all me,” she stated earnestly, reaching out to grip his prosthetic hand intentionally, this time, but he pulled it away before she could touch it.

“Don’t,” he said. “It’s not me, not a part of me.”

“It is. You saved Lance’s life with that hand, when the Galra attacked us. You’ve used it to fight with, to protect us, time and time again, the same way you protected your fellow prisoners. They forged a weapon, but you chose to use it to protect, not destroy. It’s like that ancient saying: ‘Guns don’t kill people; people kill people.’ Your weapon, your choice, and you chose to protect,” she insisted.

“You sound so much like him. You _look_ so much like him. I can’t believe I didn’t see it at first. No, I don’t think I wanted to. Because I knew you weren’t him, and I guess maybe I thought I was imagining how much you looked like him, or maybe even that I was hallucinating you altogether? I’m not really sure. Those first few days, after you found me, everything was so fuzzy and strange, like walking through fog. Surreal. It was only after finding Black, bonding with him, that I knew for sure it was real.”

His smile was painful. “That’s kind of pathetic, really, that the giant black robot lion talking in my head was more real than the four of you.”

“I don’t think so. Machines have always made more sense to me than people,” Katie argued.

“Yeah. He told me about that, how you’d tinker for days on end, building things in your room, that you had grease under your nails instead of nail polish on them. It’s one of the things he loved about you, that you were your own person, with your own interests, that you didn’t let him and your dad, or your mom keep you from being you.”

Shiro hadn’t spoken Matt’s name the entire time, but he’d at least mentioned her dad by that title. “Matt talked about you constantly. Every time he’d call during mission training, you were practically all he talked about. You were like the big brother he’d always wanted, and dad loved you like a second son. I think they would have adopted you, if they could have, if you hadn’t already had parents,” Katie stated honestly.

“They won’t hate you or resent you for escaping without them. They’ll be really glad you made it out, that you’re safe from those monsters who hurt you. And we’re going to find them, and rescue them. So stop feeling so guilty. You need to sleep, Shiro. And eat. You can’t keep losing your temper the way you’ve been, these past couple of days. You can’t let the guilt and sleep deprivation do this to you. I’m a good listener, but I know you don’t think I’m old enough, or man enough to hear. So talk to Hunk. Or Keith. Or Lance. Coran. Whoever. Just… don’t be alone.”

“What about you? Will you talk to me? Or Hunk? I’m not the only one who needs a release valve, a safety switch,” Shiro insisted.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you, or Hunk. Or Green. He’s a good listener, actually. We really get along. He gives really good advice,” Katie said sincerely.

“Good,” Shiro said, looking relieved. Satisfied.

0 0 0

After Keith exited the pod and stopped glaring accusingly at Shiro, Pidge and Hunk, he wiggled the fingers of his formerly injured hand, relieved to feel they moved and felt exactly the same as before he’d punched the wall. Then he stared at Lance, who was still in his pod, frowning. “Why’s he still in there? I mean, his heart’s OK, isn’t it?”

“His heart’s fine. It was his broken ribs that are taking this long to…” Allura trailed off, as Keith caught Shiro making a belated shushing motion.

“I broke Lance’s ribs?” Keith asked, horrified.

“My dad told me people who aren’t trained first responders do that more often than you’d think,” Shiro was quick to assure him. “Keith, you saved Lance’s life. You might have been a little too forceful, but you _saved his life,_ ” Shiro stressed.

“Why didn’t he say something?” Keith asked, genuinely perplexed. He would have expected Lance to yell at him for hurting him.

“I assume because he didn’t want to upset you. Or because he was grateful. We’re all grateful, Keith. The thought of losing anyone… We’re just glad the two of you are alright,” Shiro insisted.

“It’s my fault the Lions fought, that Lance got hurt. You shouldn’t be grateful. You should hate me. Or at least be afraid of me. I dented the wall. I’m dangerous,” Keith argued.

“I tore a chunk out of one of the walls, and demolished a camera. It’s been a rough couple of days. It happens to the best of us, and the worst of us. You being the best, and me being the worst, by the way, since I can see from your expression you weren’t thinking that,” Shiro argued.

Keith didn’t even dignify that with a response.

“So, who’s up for some alien power bars?” Hunk asked with forced sounding exuberance. “Pidge and I have been tinkering. Or, you know, you could eat some real food. I even made more of the blue one for you,” Hunk enticed.

Keith looked guiltily at Lance’s pod.

“Keith, he’ll be fine. Come on, eat with us,” Hunk encouraged.

Keith was about to decline, when he saw Shiro’s worried frown. The last thing he wanted to do was worry Shiro.

“Yeah, OK. Sure,” Keith reluctantly agreed. “But only if you eat too,” he challenged Shiro.

When Shiro opened his mouth, Keith was certain he was going to claim he wasn’t hungry, but then the expression on his face changed to a sheepish one. “Yeah. I’m actually kind of hungry,” Shiro admitted, and just like that, a weight lifted off of Keith’s stomach, and suddenly he was too.

0 0 0

This time, when Lance fell forward out of the pod, there was someone there to catch him. He assumed it was Hunk, until he realized he’d somehow ended up in Keith’s arms. He recoiled as if he’d stuck his finger in an electrical socket.

“You’re welcome, asshole,” Keith snarked.

“I was trying not to hurt your hand,” Lance immediately retorted, though he’d only just remembered to be worried about it.

“Yeah, well it’s fine. A little dose of the healing pod took care of it. How are your ribs?” Keith challenged.

“They’re fi… What do you mean ribs? It was my heart, remember?” Lance belatedly corrected himself.

“Yeah, until I broke your ribs restarting it. Next time tell me if I hurt you, you moron,” Keith snapped.

“Yeah, well next time, be more careful, jerk,” Lance snarled back.

“That’s what we like to see. One big, happy family, right Hunk?” Pidge said sarcastically.

“Knock it off, you two, or I’m turning the spaceship around,” Shiro quipped mildly, his eyes laughing and his lips quirked in a tolerant smile.

Lance stared. Shiro looked different. The dark circles were gone from under his eyes, and at least for now, the haunted look was gone from his face. He looked good, really good. Healthy. Calm. Rational. At home in his own skin.

“Stop undressing Shiro with your eyes, Lance,” Keith demanded.

Lance glared at him. “I wasn’t,” he argued.

“Were to,” Keith snapped.

“Was not,” Lance groused.

“Children! That’s enough!” Shiro chastised.

“ _Now_ look what you did,” Keith hissed.

“Oh no. Don’t you dare try to blame _me_ for getting us in trouble,” Lance retorted.

“Paladins! If you have this much excess energy, I think that a good long practice session in the training room will burn off some of that restlessness. Before you eat,” Allura ordered imperiously.

“Great! Now Mom’s pissed at us too,” Lance whispered.

“Lance! Zip it!” Allura demanded, pulling an invisible zipper across her mouth, the way she’d seen Lance do countless times.

Keith smiled smugly at Lance, exactly the way Lance’s little brothers used to, every time they got him into trouble.

“Sorry Allura, Shiro,” Lance apologized contritely, all the bickering suddenly sucked right out of him. Because he’d almost died out here, again. He’d almost lost any chance of ever seeing his family again. He would have, if it hadn’t been for Keith. The realization reminded him he had something important to do.

“Hey Keith. Thanks. For saving my life. I owe you one,” Lance said, holding out his hand.

Keith stared at him, looking baffled, his eyes flicking down suspiciously to Lance’s hand.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Man, you have to be the most paranoid person I’ve ever met. It’s called a handshake. When someone saves your life, and you thank them for it, it’s common courtesy to acknowledge their thanks,” Lance explained acerbically.

Keith glared. “I’m not an idiot, you know.”

“That’s debatable,” Lance snapped, yanking his hand away.

Lance heard a chorus of groans from behind him, and then suddenly Hunk was scooping him up into a hug, smooshing him into his chest, along with Keith. “Fine. Instead, let’s hug,” Hunk offered, not giving them the option to say no.

“I think you should have them kiss to make up,” Pidge snarked.

Lance felt his face flush with heat, the only saving grace being that Keith’s face looked as deep red as his felt.

“I’d rather kiss a chimpanzee. Oh wait. That would still be kissing Lance,” Keith quipped.

“Takes one to know one, Mullethead,” Lance replied.

Lance nearly fell to the floor as Hunk abruptly let go of them both.

“OK, I’m done here. I give up. I’m going to eat. The rest of you can get punishment duty in the training room, but _I_ didn’t do anything wrong,” Hunk claimed.

“No way. If we have to practice, so do you, Big Guy. We’re a team, remember?” Lance complained.

“How good of you to finally remember that,” Allura stated acidly, with a strained smile that was more than a little terrifying.

“Now Mom’s _really_ pissed at us,” Lance whispered in accusation, right into Keith’s ear, and then he yelped as he was grabbed by his own ear.

“You’re either walking to the training chamber, or I’ll drag you there by your ear,” she threatened.

Lance glared at Keith for his self satisfied smirk, until Allura grabbed him by the ear with her other hand, dragging them both like recalcitrant children.

“An extra training session in exchange for seeing Allura best both Lance and Keith? Totally worth it,” Pidge said to Shiro, her grin more than a little malicious.

 _Forget Allura. Pidge is the scary one,_ Lance thought silently, careful to keep his opinion to himself.

0 0 0

Thace stared longingly out the viewport into space, toward the direction of Earth, though even the planet’s star, Sol, was not visible from this distance. _Is my son standing on an alien hillside, looking up at the stars, wondering who I am, where I am, why I abandoned him?_ Thace wondered silently.

 _I did it for you, Drace._ _No. Not Drace. Drace is your Altaean name and you are, for now at least, Terran, though none of their blood runs in your veins. Keith Kogane is the Terran name I gave to you. Are you still alive? Have you survived all alone on that alien world?_

_You were so tiny, when I abandoned you there, when I used our morphing ability to disguise myself as a Terran female, so I might pose as your mother. Your true mother, Raena, would have laughed to see me as a diminutive Terran woman, when she was so magnificent, so fierce, one of the finest Galran warriors it has ever been my privilege and my despair to know. Or perhaps cried, when she saw you unconsciously mimic me, your beloved features morphing from Galran to alien._

_No, she would never show such a weakness. She would instead have cut out my heart, if she ever discovered my deception, if she ever belatedly realized she had lain with an Altaean and birthed a child of one. It would have only been what I deserve, for using her like that. Or so she would have believed. She would never know I actually had feelings for her other than duty and necessity._

_I never got to see your true face, half Altaean, half Galran, or perhaps I did. I too have looked Galran nearly my entire life, only allowing myself to assume my true form in private, or in secret at the painful few reunions our clan has snatched for itself. The fleet is massive, the universe vast. It has been years since I have seen many of my kin, yet far longer since I have seen you._

_But I had no choice but to abandon you to live on a distant planet with strangers. It was the only way I could save you, my son. You were so perfect, so fierce, for your tiny size, a fighter, staying alive even as your mother died of her wounds, long enough for them to cut you from her womb. But you were born far too early, and so very small. She never should have been assigned to that rebel subjugation mission, but she was far too proud to refuse such an honor. How could she? Emperor Zarkon has no use for weak soldiers. As the father of one the Galra viewed as defective, it was my job to space you, for the glory of the Empire. But as an Altaean, it was my solemn duty to save you, and not because King Alfor, or whoever now rules in his stead, needs every hand, every spy._

_At least you are not entirely alone. The Blue Lion is on Earth. It is my hope that someday you might find her, use her, as I could not. I tried, we all have, since we discovered her, we had hoped that she would allow another of Varic’s blood entry, but she has remained steadfast in her loyalty to him and would not allow any of us to fly her. Or perhaps she is punishing us, or King Alfor, for his death. Who knows how a Lion thinks?_

“There you are. I should have known I’d find you here,” a harsh voice snapped from directly behind Thace.

Only centuries of subterfuge prevented Thace from visibly startling, even as he cursed himself for allowing Sendak, of all people, to come upon him unawares.

“Tell me, Thace, what is it you find more important than doing your Emperor’s bidding? Which star calls to you so fiercely that you would value it more than your duty?” his oily voice hissed.

“Sendak,” he acknowledged the other’s presence coolly, without title, even knowing it would infuriate him. “Never have I failed to do as my Emperor commands,” Thace rebutted. _Or my King._

“And _that_ is how you fail him. A good soldier follows orders. A great one anticipates his Emperor’s needs and acts before he is ordered,” Sendak claimed.

Thace knew that were he ever bold enough and foolish enough to show such initiative for Zarkon, even had he the desire to, he would be taking his life into his hands. An Emperor like Zarkon needed to know he was in control of his men at all times, so that he might seize the glory of their every action as his own.  Thace had, of course, taken many independent actions for King Alfor and Princess Allura, or rather, their hopefully numerous and healthy heirs, whomever they might be, hiding in secret, biding their time. Every waking moment of his life, every action, had been on his own initiative, as had his father’s, and his father before him, for ten generations, 10,000 years, ever since Alfor had sent his entire family upon this secret mission.

Few of them remained now, in spite of as careful as possible selective inbreeding with their most distant cousins. King Alfor had never expected the war to last so long, or that they would eventually need to crossbreed with the Galrans to produce more spies for his cause, but the genetic flaws of the few purebloods left among them had become too pronounced, they died far too easily in Zarkon’s merciless army.

But what of Alfor’s line? Their entire empire had been subjugated or destroyed, and far beyond, yet Alfor, Allura and whichever offspring now claimed the title to the throne had remained hidden. _If they yet exist. It has been 10,000 years, without sign of them, messages, instructions, even the hint of rebellion anywhere within the Empire._ Thace felt the all too familiar darkness and despair attempt to drown him, and as always, he fought his way back to the surface.

_No. Alfor’s heir lives. He or she is out there, somewhere, waiting, hoping, planning, preparing to strike, when the time is right, when there is a sliver of a chance, a hope we might succeed. I have to believe that, for my sake, my family’s, for all those who have been subjugated. But mostly, for my son._

_Stay strong, my son. Stay safe. Someday, soon, I will see you again, I swear it._


End file.
